Canvas
by Spiral Into Darkness
Summary: As an artist, one is able to draw inspiration from a positive viewpoint on life. Yami is no exception to this standard. To bad his form of inspiration comes from the concept of death, that is, until he meets Yugi and becomes dangerously obsessed...
1. Splashes Against the Canvas

**_A/N:_** Here is my first attempt at fanfiction and well, I'll let you be the judge on how good this story is. Now if you don't realize this story is Yaoi and that's not your piece of cake, than I suggest you hit the back button as quickly as possible because there will be lots of that. Now, if you can tolerate death and blood and whatever else assoicates with horror than welcome. Don't worry, the horror will not overshadow the romance of this story, just twist it a bit to something of my creation. So enjoy the product of my weird imagination.

**_Chapter warning:_** Death, instances of blood, and violence.****

**_Splashes Against the Canvas_**

_Every color represent's a deadly sin…_

Sharp eyes that resembled the blood-red color of roses stared without emotion at the blank canvas that stood out heavily in the lavishly, artistic décor of the spacious room, completely and utterly white in contrast to the darker colors of the room. And it was for that sole reason alone Yami Atemu, the possessor of such hypnotic, scarlet eyes, hated it, and detested the filthy thing with a passion. There was no beauty or extravagance to it for it was blank, and he, a famous artist, found such a thing despicable. And yet, he despised himself more for he was responsible for the canvas ugliness because it was his job as a painter to create an image out of nothing. To create a mind-blowing conflagration of colors that would further enhance his reputation as a highly-esteemed artist. But how was he to create art without inspiration? That would be comparable to building a ship without a proper outline, bound to fall apart in less than minutes. Usually, his form of inspiration would come from the wonderful euphoric feeling of torturing any unlucky soul unfortunate enough to become a victim to his unexplainable desire to kill and paint with the beautiful red liquid that spilled profusely out of dead veins. Yes, he was a murderer, and a professional one at that. No one would ever suspect someone as generous and charming to be responsible for the gruesome deaths that began to become a little to frequent in the busy city of Domino. No one would dare suspect him to be the sadistic killer that painted on an easel at night with the blood of the ones he killed, partly the reason why his art was so ingenious and beautiful. Not a soul had ever thought about using the blood of humans instead of red paint to mix in with the other colors, giving it that "lively" feeling that most people praised him for. But now, as he sat on his satin-black velvet couch in nothing but a dark red robe with black linen, sipping aimlessly at a glass of expensive wine, did the artist feel that killing people wasn't enough anymore. He needed _more_.

But what could possible serve as the almost impossible task of being his inspiration?

Cursing profoundly, the artist left his wine glass on a polished, brown oak table as he exited the room in favor of one of the many numerous rooms in his mansion, namely his room to be exact, walking rapidly in his frustrated state. He could feel it rising, the bloodlust that reacted violently to his unpredictable mood-swings, the need to paint in blood, to carve beautiful pictures into paling skin, to hear muffled sounds of agony and suffering that acted as his personal sonata. No matter if he no longer drew inspiration from killing, Yami still found a sick enjoyment in it or a much sought after distraction from keeping up his guise as a handsome, charming artist that enjoyed the various art and had highly-respectable morals. Too bad his morals were the one of a killer and the various arts he enjoyed were nothing but the uncountable methods of torture. A bunch of incompetent fools they were; believing all his lies he fed his fans and admirers daily, like a pack of mindless dogs that would listen to whatever their master said as long as they got a small morsel of food. If it weren't for self-preservation and a perfected control of how to act during any situation, Yami would have laughed harshly in their faces and told them that the art they adored so fervently was painted and created from the blood of humans, feeling an immense amount of gratification at what he knew would be the expressions of horrified people. Really, sometimes the annoyance of preserving this guise was enough to make him do just that.

Finally making it to his personal chambers, Yami couldn't help but smile contently at the dark décor of his room which was fashioned by him himself. The floor was carpeted by a lush black rug that wasn't even remotely flawed; the bed was a four poster king-size bed with dark drapes hanging from the canopy blanketed by wine-colored sheets and dozens of goose feather stuffed pillows; a fireplace at the farthest end of the room surrounded by some bookshelves and dark throne like chairs; a balcony that allowed him an expansive view of his property; and finally a door that led to his private bathroom that was as grand as his bedroom. All and all, the room was a beautiful room if not slightly intimidating with its gothic demeanor and dark-colored theme which of course was Yami's style. He chuckled quietly for no stated purpose and proceeded to walk into his walk-in closet to search for a fitting outfit, opting for some silky, name-brand, black slacks with a matching black shirt, finishing the look with a black vest that was perfect for summer nights. It was perfect for blending in the nights, but his hair, which was an oddity within itself, posed a problem. His hair featured multiple layers, including long, blond crooked, pointy locks for his fringe, some of them jutting upward stiffly. The rest was in the shape of six large spikes colored black with magenta rims all along the edges. It really was an attention-puller; not that it mattered of course because it was never a variable during his other nightly endeavors.

As quietly as a spectator, Yami exited his house excitedly, welcoming the nightly air and the adrenaline that was already beginning to awaken in preparation for the hunt that was going to take place, mindlessly patting the sliver dagger that had tasted the flesh and blood of others many a time. He didn't bother with the task of taking one of his vehicles for it would be too much of a hassle and instead opted to walk leisurely out of the rich portion of town in which he lived in favor of the darker and more sinister streets that Domino city tried its best to hide; where the illegal clubs prospered at and the shameless houses for prostitution that contained such illicit acts. However, Yami found no pleasure in killing in a place where crimes can go unaccounted for and so he often lured his victims with his irresistible looks to a more decent sector of town, where the middle-classed lived. This was where he got his true pleasure from as he watched the next day on the news how a normal family found a mutilated corpse in their bushes or at their doorstep, eyes open wide in horror for eternity. Sick and twisted as he maybe, Yami got his high off such things and previously his inspiration, but tonight, all he wanted was to satisfy his diet for blood. Ah yes. He certainly did derive pleasure from tasting the metallic yet tangy liquid known as blood. It was simply extraordinary.

Laughing quietly at what was to come, Yami soon arrived at his destination, a rather shady spot that was the opposite than what it appeared to be on the inside; a club where if you didn't watch your step you would find yourself sexually harassed and alcohol intoxicated in minutes. It was his kind of place, a place where he didn't exist as Yami Atemu a world-famous artist, but a nameless stranger among other nameless figures with a hidden agenda. Smirking lightly, albeit if not alluringly, Yami made his way to the front entrance that was guarded by a young man that looked to be just bored, but in actuality served as the one who allowed you entrance. He allowed the boy an innocent smile and brought his way in with substantial amount of cash that had the boy's grey eyes bulging in his eye sockets, even going out of his way to open the door for Yami because his generous tribute that was way over the entrance fee. Really, in Yami's crimson eyes, money was nothing but a tool, a bargaining chip, something use to bribe greedy people-or what he saw as scum to getting what he wanted. This person that allowed him entrance for what he saw as chump change was not excluded from this.

The first thing that greeted Yami was the scent of alcohol, perspiration, and the faint tinge of sex, easily disgusting him, than the sight of sweaty people dancing sensually with each other along with the blaring, controlling tempo of the music. It was quite a big place with a bar a good distance away from the dance floor and tables and couches for people to lounge at, which was already occupied by humans either drinking or making out. If it wasn't for his bloodlust, Yami would have left in disgust by now, but instead just maneuvered through a few crowds, seeking the upper levels where he would have a better view of the club to seek out his victim. It would be easy really. With a few quick, alluring smiles and chance to gaze into his hypnotizing scarlet eyes, he would have someone head over heels in love with him, male or female, just eager to please him and try to impress them with their undesirable bodies. But Yami had class; he would seduce someone decent and not as repulsive as the other occupants of the club.

Now who to choose out of the writhing mass of humans down below…

For approximately twenty minutes, Yami leaned on a rail gazing bored at the dancing people below, shooting down curious, lustful people that gazed his way with an emotionless look from his detached eyes, scaring them away immediately. Not once during the twenty minutes elapse of time did anyone catch his eye, no matter how hard he just wanted to pick a random person and kill them already. But the artist in him refused to settle on anyone who didn't possess any type of beauty, outward or inward for he could judge the beauty of one's soul, be it rotten or pure. And nowadays, pure souls were hard to find in adults but more common in children. Yami wasn't looking for a child. Children were easy to snatch for their innocent ignorance, too easy to kill because their resistance wasn't in the least challenging. Sure their screams of terror were delicious to the ears but Yami gained no fun in killing a weakling and thus preferred young adults for they were in their prime, just like him, a worthy challenge. And it was for this very reason that Yami was about to pick a random person for his appetite before he caught sight of someone from the corner of his eye, a leather clad figure that that sat in solitude at the bar, standing out slightly for two reasons. One reason was for the sole purpose that his hair could be the exact replica of his except that his was just slightly softer looking-silky even. The second reason was he looked a little too young to be here, but even Yami could see that wasn't the case. Back turned or not, Yami could still fill an air of maturity colliding perfectly with a pure innocence that attracted attention, certainly his; Looks like he had found his prey.

Not to mention, Yami loved to play with his food.

Stealthily, the artist left the upper level to get a closer look at his chosen prey, still maintaining a good distance, but enough that it provided a perfect view of this teenager, shocked and inwardly relishing in just how beautiful the other was. That face of his, so angelic and perfect-elfin even, was set in a perpetual frown as he shifted the contents of his glass aimlessly, obviously in deep thought. But what really entranced Yami was the sheer exquisiteness of the amethyst jewels the teen had for eyes, their surface like a visible gateway to his soul and emotions, so mesmerizing that you could gaze at them forever. And in those alluring eyes, Yami could see that pure soul that radiated so brightly but was protected in its bodily casing that could only reflect half of its elegance. The artist could actually feel his bloodlust shifting from its initial desire for death and blood to something else, a desire for a game, a need. By all means, Yami loved games and was a master of them and was eager to play any game involving this teenager that so effortlessly grabbed his interest. Now all there was to do was to set the board…

And let the games begin.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--

Yugi Muto, a lover of all games, and local resident of Domino High didn't expect to end up wondering the streets at night, nonetheless sitting at an empty bar-save for the bar-tender- serving him glasses of refreshing water. At this hour at the night, he was supposed to be safe and sound at his grandfather's game shop and their home, snug in his bed sleeping away his problems until the next day. But here he was, amongst the sleaziest or immoral people who had more than once made their interest for him known which was quickly fended off by a "no thank you", obviously turned off by his polite manner of speech. Yugi had the sneaking suspicion that his taste in clothing had given them the wrong or rather inappropriate impression. He often was reprimanded by his friends that his taste in clothing would draw attention just as badly as his resplendent, natural hair. If it wasn't for his little problem, the memory would have brought a small smile to his face. But all he could do now was sigh in depression and wallow in his misery. An observer would call him a goth for all the strange amount of sighs he been releasing and combined with his unusual appearance, but he wasn't. Honestly, if a perceptive person was to observe him, they would see in fact a depressed teenager who looked to be troubled by the emotion called love, which is if the person was an over-analyzing person with nothing better to do.

Yes. Yugi Muto was in love or what he thought was love or something akin to it.

Usually, when one person was in love, they were overcome by a euphoric bliss, prone to sighing, and had a dreamy and helpless look in half-lidded eyes. Yugi was experiencing none of these except for the sighing and it wasn't helping. He didn't know what he was experiencing except that it wasn't pleasant or unpleasant, just different. And the cause of all this confusion was none other than girl, one of his best-friends that were aspiring to be a dancer. Anzu Mazaki was here name and she was a rather pretty girl, strong-willed, supportive, and very kind-hearted. And sadly, Yugi knew she felt nothing but friendship for him, which had led him from leaving Jonouchi's-another close friend- house in what he believed to be heartbreak upon hearing her talk enthusiastically about being in love with someone. He was just so confused right now and the blaring music in the background was doing nothing to help him. More than anything, it was beginning to give him a migraine. Maybe it was for the better if he set for home and quell the heart attack his grandpa was having over his abnormal lateness.

"Do you mind if take a seat here?" A velvety, sensuous voice requested softly, startling Yugi out of his thoughts as he looked towards where the voice came from, his throat drying up at the sight.

Yugi really was unsure where his sexual preferences stood at that moment upon the sight of looking at the exotic, handsome man standing before him in clothes that did nothing but accentuate his already attractive appearance. His skin was nicely tanned and smooth, kissed by the sun actually, with the body and lithe muscles of a dancer, his movements gracefully and regal like royalty, like a king almost. Those eyes of his, those blood-red irises, were just so alluring and mystifying the way they gazed back him, completely unreadable. And let's not forget the strange detail that his chosen hair style was very similar to his.

"Not at all…," he replied nervously, almost unable to respond under the intense gaze of the other that felt so dominating and powerful. His very aura was commanding.

The other graced him with a grateful smile which looked so seductive in Yugi's vision, or what his mind chose to perceive, as he took a seat, waving a hand of dismissal towards the bar-tender who almost jumped out of his skin to serve the noble looking man. Apparently, this man had eyes only for Yugi because he didn't even look at the bar-tender when dismissing the anxious person, inwardly making the young teenager just a little nervous. Obviously, the guy wanted something from him if he had bothered with starting a conversion with a commoner like him.

"Forgive me if I'm intruding in personal affairs but I couldn't help but wonder why one such as you is in a place like this?" The guy most have been some type of noble because of his refined manner of speech, but something inside Yugi told him that this was not the case.

"No it's ok," he assured, meeting that scarlet gaze head on. "I just came here because I…well I'm not sure actually. I was just thinking and I ended up here." He didn't even notice when he started to fidget with the chain attached to his belt loop.

Amusement, or what Yugi could interpret, came into smoldering eyes as he chuckled whimsically, observing him with a frightening but sensual coolness that had Yugi's heart beating slighter faster, the music nothing but a soft buzz in his ear now compared to his own frantic breathing. It was like he was being put under a spell of some kind, one that was so silent and lulling that you wouldn't know that you where under it until it made itself known. And then, the man spoke, ever so quietly but still so much more audible in Yugi's ears. "This is rather a distracting place for one to retreat into their thoughts, don't you think?" Silence for a long second before he spoke again with a tinge of mystery laced in his voice, "But who am I to judge?" A smirk. "My name is Yami, may I have yours?"

'_Yami,_' Yugi thought with wonder, pondering its uniqueness before offering his own name in response, a little shy, but eager. "My name is Yugi. Nice to meet you Yami," he paused as he felt like he heard the name before, in a memory of sorts. He felt like as if he heard the name somewhere but where from? "Are you someone famous Mr. Yami? Your name is awfully familiar…" Yugi trailed off in his wonder, unaware of the shifty, if not dangerous gaze he was receiving from the handsome man; the look of someone who was very fond of acting on impulse.

"I assure you that I'm no one of importance," his usual, velvet baritone voice seemed to drop down an octave before he spoke again, "Do you have the time?"

The inquiry was enough to lure the thinking teenager out of his thoughts as he looked at his sliver watch, gasped cutely, and looked at Yami with apologetic, amethyst eyes. "Its midnight and I really need to get home right now. It was nice meeting you." With that rushed response, Yugi muttered another apology under his breath, excused himself, and was maneuvering through the still dancing bodies around him, heading for the exit. He was so concentrated on getting home that he didn't realize that Yami got up after him and followed at a much more calm, predatory pace, and crimson irises laughing internal at the beginning of this beautiful game. And Yugi would never realize that he already made the first mistake leading to horrible misfortunes in the oncoming future, all because he talked to a person that he believed to be charming when in reality he was a professional killer under the guise of a world-famous artist.

Yugi had initiated the first move of the game.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/-

Yami couldn't control the excitement coursing through his veins at the start of this game, not even the whispers and shouts thrumming in his ears from the dancers enough to distract him from his goal. It was just so easy to intrigue the younger boy with his mysterious persona, but it was a lot more difficult to seduce the trust he was trying to work out of the boy. He could see that just his mere voice was enough to make the other shiver with passionate emotions, but that wasn't exactly what he was trying achieve, not at the moment. He wanted the boy's trust, even a slither of it would do, enough to get some personal information. But even if the boy was slightly hypnotized already, his secrets were cautiously guarded and protected by that politeness and adorable innocence. All that meant was things were going to become much more challenging and would have to resort to following this interesting teenager named Yugi. He was just so entrancing and the way he looked all nervous in his presence, simply adorable. This was going to be exciting and he was going to prolong this as long as he possible could. It was quite rare for anything to attain his interest nowadays, but Yugi did it in one small encounter.

Now where was his little prey?

The artist exited the building and quickly scanned his surroundings, making a sound of satisfaction as he saw his prey walking hastily on the other side of the street, obviously eager to get home, and completely unaware that he had a follower. And he would never know for Yami was an expert at this portion of the hunt and it was the most entertaining, well, on par with the actual killing. Using the nights blanket to cloak him, Yami began to stalk the teenager inconspicuously, keeping a good distance away but enough that he was still in his vision. An eerie silence settled in the atmosphere, fitting the abandoned streets as if something horrible was about to take place, a silence that was perfect for Yami. These were the atmosphere's he thrived in, his element. Even his body began to react erratically to this, heart quickening in a consuming excitement, fingers grabbing twitchingly at the dagger sealed in his pocket, and crimson eyes focused nothing on the prey. Not yet. He wasn't going to kill the sweet boy yet, not until the game ended and his interest diminished, not until his bloodlust was satisfied.

Patience was not one of Yami's strong points.

To his almost snapping patience, Yami was relieved to say that Yugi had arrived at his home, a game shop combined with a house that possessed such a homely air. So, Yugi adored game as well? Even better for the artist who watched with impatience at the warming conversation taking place at the entrance to the shop between an aging old man and Yugi, the younger obviously trying to soothe the man's fears about his lateness. Apparently, Yugi wasn't one to stay out at night and pursue its pleasures like he had assumed; an obstacle that was to try and thwart Yami for he acted best during night; another challenge to make this game more interesting. Chuckling darkly, Yami watched as they retreated into the house, marveling at how quickly Yugi journeyed to his room for he could see a room light turn on, and then just as quickly as it came on, turned off.

Yami had the green-light.

Flexing his dagger between his nimble fingers, the artist walked to the door with all the quietness and grace of a feline, easily picked the door's lock with his dagger, and walked in. Bypassing all the games for sell, Yami stole through the house portion of the building until he found some stairs, smirking casually as he began his trek to his prey's room. If the soft breathing coming from the first door wasn't indication enough, Yami could see the poster of what appeared to be the teen's favorite band stapled right in front of the door, all the requirements to rightly assume this was Yugi's room. The artist almost outwardly sighed at how easy this was, at least expecting them to have locked their personal room doors. Didn't they have any idea that there was a killer stalking the nights, or did that not bother them? It was quite foolish on their part but Yami wasn't exactly complaining seeing as it made this all the more easier.

Entering the room quietly, Yami noted the room was decorated simply except with a few personal touches here and there, not drawing his interest like the slumbering, beautiful form in front of him, pale, milky skin illuminated by the moon's eerie yet awe-inspiring light. God, he was just so beautiful in Yami's crimson eyes that he felt the dagger slacken slightly in his grip, unable to stop himself from inching closer to admire the beauty in front of him. What would it be like to paint this angelic being onto the blankness of the canvas that haunted one of his living rooms? It would be…_perfect_. He could imagine Yugi posed flawlessly on his bed while he began to paint the boy on his easel, using the blood of others to give it a realistic beauty, just like the one in front of him. And then Yami had another spontaneous idea, one that made him inwardly purr in gratification and pleasure. Yugi could be his muse, his source of inspiration, and perhaps the only person he wouldn't kill. He could stay with him forever in his mansion and inspire him to create more magnificent artworks, so much better than the one he's been releasing to be put in art galleries and be possessed by art collectors. And maybe, Yugi could also be his little lover, his to please, his to own, and his to break. Everything would be so perfect and perhaps his life would finally hold some meaning towards him. Now where to begin…

Crimson eyes glowed as an idea struck him; Yami sighted a piece of blank paper that was so conveniently placed on a desk, taking a quill out of his pocket-a favorite of his-to write with. Now he needed some type of ink, but Yami realized he would need something better than ordinary ink to impress his little muse. And what better to use than one's own blood? With that in mind, Yami used his keen dagger to cut a little wound on his arm, gratifying in the arrival of pure red liquid that slithered down his arm, only to be caught by the sharp edge of his quill. Quickly and hushed, the artist began to write in bloody letters in a silky, cursive font that would cause one to admonish their own handwriting for not even be relatively good as his, smiling slightly when he finished. Yugi would see it in the morning which meant it was time for him to go. But a nagging feeling told him he needed some type of parting gift, something that would literally shock the other out of his skin.

He had just the gift in mind.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/-

_Ring!_

An adorable grunt of protest left soft lips as sleep-filled amethyst orbs blinked into awareness, searching exasperatedly for the disruption that disturbed his sleep, becoming angrier upon realizing that it was none other than his cell-phone telling him oh-so-dutifully that someone was trying to reach him at some ungodly hour. His eyes strayed curiously towards his alarm clock that hadn't even rung yet to find that it was 7:00 in the morning, further vexing him because he usually didn't wake till 8:00. But being the natural polite person he was, Yugi couldn't bring himself to answer the phone with anger lacing his tone, but instead elected for a weary, albeit impatient tenor, especially since it was Malik, a very close friend of his. Beside's, it was really not the Egyptian native to call him so early.

"May I ask why you decided to call me at this hour? It is really unlike you," greeted Yugi across the phone in good-humor, still a little sore from his one hour sleep deprivation, but genuinely curious and a tinge bit concerned why he called.

"_-You're not up yet?!-_" The other sounded ludicrous and very concerned.

"No, it's seven, on a Saturday. Why?" Never had Yugi ever hear his friend lose that calm tenor always found in his collected voice, meaning something was indeed wrong.

On the other line, Yugi could hear what appeared to be a cross between a groan and a sigh before Malik spoke, voice shaken. "_-Yugi look outside and don't scream.-_"

Feeling really alarmed, Yugi hesitantly advanced to his window and peered through the glass frame, his brain uncomprehending at the scene going on in front of him. Blood…everywhere, was staining the front door to game shop, on the steps where something unmoving was blanketed by a white sheet, just everywhere. He could see news reporters and a terrified crowd of people being held back by police trying to create some type of control in this madness, them to attempting trying not to hide the disgust from showing on their stoic faces while some others investigated the premises of the new crime scene, his front lawn. And through it all, Yugi could make out the shape of his pale looking grandpa standing unstable near the door, holding his stomach as he was being interrogated quietly by an investigator. Yugi's brain just couldn't fathom why there was just so much blood everywhere on their usually clean property, the one his grandfather had swept the other morning, smeared by random puddles of the horrible liquid. Why was this happening? Who had _died_? Why was everything so _red_? It was as if someone threw buckets of red everywhere there was to throw. The poor teenager just couldn't take the sight any longer and recoiled away from the window if it was poisonous, feeling tears of dread and horror escape his eyes while he rocked back and forth. Through his crying, Yugi could hear Malik trying to comfort him but he too couldn't hide own uncertainty and fear at the prospect of murder being committed right at his friends door step.

It was truly a cause for fear.

"_-Hey Yugi, are you okay?-_" Malik eventually asked, so quiet and disturbed by what was going on. "_-You know…you can drop over at my place for awhile.-_"

The traumatized teen did nothing but intake a sharp breath of air before wiping his tears, calming but still visibly shaken, now fully able to hear the commotion going outside, as if amplified by his sudden discovery of it. "Thank you, but I prefer to be alone…just for the moment."

"_-No problem,-_" Malik spoke understandingly, but still more than happy to help his friend. "_-If you need anything, just call.-_" The phone-line disconnected with those words, leaving Yugi with his troubled thoughts, starting to regret not accepting the invitation that was given to him.

_So much red…so much blood…_

Trembling arms wrapped self-protectively around its shaking body as beautiful amethyst orbs formed a fresh batch of tears that created trails of wetness down baby-soft skin, a face tight with pain, and a sympathetic heart clenching in agony for the person that died horribly on his doorsteps, the owner of all that ceaseless amounts of red. Never had he seen so much of it and that unnerved him slightly, making him ask himself why was this happening? Why did that person have to die? He sniffled and slipped out of bed weakly to ease his way slowly out of his room to comfort his grandpa, only to pause on glimpsing something red. Curiously and already feeling sick again or perhaps more sick sense the feeling never left, Yugi walked to his desk and was met with a letter that was definitely not there yesterday written in cursive, red ink. But never had he seen red ink before, especially one that looked so lively and warm, giving it a human feel. Despite how human it felt, Yugi felt a wrongness exuding sickeningly off it, like this ink was something very horrible. And then with groan of horror, Yugi realized with a sickening dread that it was blood that supplied this once blank paper with words, that it was blood that give it such a "lively" wrong feeling. Someone had written in blood, obviously a person that was very disturbed and wrong in the mind. It was only with a desire to know what information that paper possessed that compelled him to read the letter, and the frightening fact that it was addressed to him, his name written in bloody letters.

_Dear Yugi,_

_It has come to pass that I no longer possess any form of inspiration for these last few weeks and it is simply intolerable. As one who enjoys the arts, having not a source of inspiration is like losing the will to live and it is most unbearable. However, I found a new inspiration in the form of you and you cannot even fathom how delighted I am. As a thank you, I have left a gift at your very doorstep; a gift that I trust will please you indefinitely. I've dedicated it to you, my little inspiration, if you look closely enough. I look forward to drawing more inspiration from you Yugi, and then perhaps, preferable soon, you will come to accept me and appreciate my efforts. And then we can be together. Till future times, my little inspiration, and let our game began…_

_From your secret admirer_

Mortification and terror was the first thing Yugi felt at finishing the letter, falling to his knees as his trembling fingers began to lose grip over the flimsy paper before mindlessly rushing back to the window to find what he sought. People where still crowding around his house but they were moved aside slightly to make way for the ambulance that arrived, ready to transport the mutilated but thankfully covered body to the hospital. In different circumstances, Yugi often prided himself in having rather keen eyesight but now almost hated himself for it because he found what he was looking for, inscribed perfectly but rather painfully on the lifeless flesh of the deceased person's hanging arm in moderate size letters. Other people, namely the investigators would not have understand the message's meaning, but Yugi understood it thoroughly, fighting the urge to retch over on the floor, amethyst eyes glassy through never-ending tears. Engraved in dead flesh where those horrifying words:

_**For you, my inspiration…**_

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/-

Yami honestly wanted to laugh his head off at this exact moment as he watched with admiration and satisfaction in crimson depths at the news channel he was watching, explaining while equally trying to comfort viewers about the tragedy that occurred over _his work, his gift to Yugi._ He was glad that others _appreciated _his work, but he was really concerned about his little inspiration's opinion on the matter seeing as he went through all this effort for him. Did he notice the encrypted message on his victim's skin? Not once did he see the angelic face on television, just the grandfather who struggled to answer some questions regarding the matter. Honestly, this was simply amusing. If it weren't for one of his butler's occupying the room, unmistakably mortified by another killing taking place, Yami would have been in hysterics. He had to keep up an image as an artist who was intensely horrified by these occurrences if didn't want to install suspicion.

"_Domino city has never experienced so much death, and the citizens are about to break in to mass hysteria. The mayor is beginning to talk of a curfew to be issued out to preserve the well-beings of the occupants of Domino city_," reported the female, brown-haired news-reporter, clearly looking for a promotion or some type of finical advancement from the way she kept trying to be professional, perhaps not even caring about what was going on. Yami actually considered killing the woman for the implausible reason that she was annoying him with her faux smiles and cheap concern that she tried to convince people with. He rather had been looking at the much more pleasant angelic face of his little inspiration. The teenager was just so beautiful with those innocent features of his, those eyes of refined amethyst…

"Pardon me sir, but would you like me to refill your wine glass?" Inquired his butler who token noticed that the glass was empty, earning a convincing look of gratefulness from Yami who really was contemplating on killing him too for interrupting his thoughts about Yugi.

"If it is not a bother to you," he kindly responded with a charming smile, still contemplating this sudden desire to have the man's head at his feet.

The butler too, just like everyone else, fell for his irresistible charms as he bowed and smiled at his master, amazed at how one person could be so polite, even to a servant like him. "It is not a problem for me sir. It is my job to serve you." Bowing again, the butler retreated to find more wine for his master, ignorant to the sound of metal sliding out of an expensive sheath.

"Wait."

"Yes sir-"

The short but sickening melody of metal slicing through flesh and bone was heard as a body stood rigidly before falling to the ground in spasmodic convulsions, cleanly decapitated with a quickly forming pool of blood forming where the neck was served, a head rolling only to stop eerily in front of what appeared to be feet covered in Egyptian sandals. Yami could only look detachedly at the lifeless corpse of his former servant as he cleaned the blade of an ancient sword with the hem of his ruby-red robe, sheathing it before putting it back on its resting place above the crackling fireplace. Maybe it was best he shouldn't have killed his servant seeing as was beginning to lose more servants that way. But as easy as they were to kill was as easy to replace them, like a snap of the fingers. He laughed at the thought in his rich baritone voice as he proceeded to discarding the body, by feeding to flames living in his fireplace, hungry for the tribute Yami was going to feed it. A few grunts later of physical exertion, the artist watched avid fascination as the flames began devour the body into its heat, melting skin, cooking flesh, and charring bone until there was naught but left of the previously alive human except black ash and reek stench of burned flesh. He really needed to stop acting on impulse because now he would have to order someone to clean up the blood staining the carpet and deodorize the room to rid it of the stench. Of course he wasn't worried about his servants turning suspicious because if they were to ask questions, he would easily lie and say he spilled red paint on the floor and the smell came from oil burning.

Ingenious right?

Exiting the room wrought with murder, Yami ordered a passing servant to get assistance in the cleaning the room before proceeding to his favorite living room to further gaze upon the mocking blankness of his bare canvas. And there it was in its profound ugliness, greeting him tauntingly as he entered the room, crimson eyes narrowing into defined slits as it mocked him in silence.

_Such a great artist you are; unable to paint anything…_

'_Shut up_,' he snapped furiously at the intangible voice from which its source was unknown.

_What? Does the truth hurt? Or did I merely strike a nerve?_

'_I'm warning you…_' The irate artist walked closely towards the canvas, eyeing it challengingly.

_Or what Yami Atemu? Kill me just like everyone else that upsets you?_

Yami stiffened at the slight accusation, his posture tense, '_You don't understand…_'

_Why? Is it because I'm simply a blank canvas, your fear?_

'_I have no fears._'

_Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself? Face it Yami, your losing your sanity._

The artist scoffed. '_It was never there to begin with.'_

_Good point._

After the remark, Yami heard no more from the voice, or what he had recently established it to be this accursed canvas that taunted and mocked him every time he entered this room. He knew unless he painted something, the voice was going to continue its jeering commentary, no matter how much he viciously retorted or ignored it. One time, Yami had forced himself to take a brush to his hand and attempt to create something out of its blatant nothingness, but the artist within him rebelled against him and wouldn't allow him to paint anything on its surface. From then on, Yami realized this particular canvas was going to be the most beautiful picture he has created, a picture he would keep only for his selfish desires while he fed the world what considered mediocre paintings, just a mockery of his true talent. He knew this was the canvas that was going to be the very reflection of Yugi's soul as he attempted to recreate it at what he saw. Already, he could feel the mingling of his precious little inspiration and his own rich blood serving as the paint for this magnificent creation, could envision the perfection it would become upon its finish. Then Yugi would see that he was truly the world's greatest artist to have ever live and love him for it. Through the madness of his unhinged mind, Yami could identify what he truly wanted out of this whole twisted ordeal he was going to force this young teenager into. All he wanted was to for someone to accept him, to admire, to love him for him. His madness and desire for blood, the need to have someone to share his view on things and Yugi was the perfect candidate. Should Yugi refuse, then…

Crimson eyes darkened considerably as they glared into the consuming blankness of the canvas.

_Yugi would die…_

_

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_

_**A/N:** _Well if you made it thus far, than you either like it or hate. Either option, tell me what you think because I need to know your thoughts. Do not bother to take easy on me because I'm a newbie. I welcome constructive criticism. In a way, it is my bread and butter. Your reviews will determine the fate of this story...

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	2. The Nightmare Begins

**_A/N: _**Well I'm glad you guys enjoyed the first chapter of this story. Some of you were disturbed by it...very good. I was aiming for tha! Anyway, I thank you for reviewing because it helped me alot. And I did take some of your suggestions to heart, mainly the one about the long bodies of text. Forgive me, I'm just used to writing like that. But I did shorten them in this chapterand I will continue to do so for the rest of them. And, I'm also sorry for this update taking so long. I was delayed. So in order to make it up, I made this chapter longer, even if I didn't plan to orginally. -Shrug- If anyone's interested, I updated my profile thingy. Check it out if you have the time.

**_Chapter Warning: _**Minor language, some blood.

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_**The Nightmare Begins**_

_There are those that simply cannot go back to normalcy…_

"Hey, are you okay Yugi? You haven't even touched your pizza yet."

Unfocused amethyst eyes blinked in surprised as Yugi looked up from the provided silverware the restaurant supplied him and his friends with, feeling a sense of guilt well up in his stomach at the concern reflecting in everyone's eyes. He had done it again hadn't he, zoned out completely while everyone was chatting, consumed entirely by his thoughts that were silently tormenting him. Ever since that horrible accident a few days ago with the blood-written letter and the gruesome murder, Yugi had been strangely silent and withdrawn within himself, which really conflicted with his normally friendly persona. But how could he act like himself when a murderer had taken an interest in him? He had avoided telling his friends about the exclusive letter he received from the murder for their own protection and also for the fact that should they get involved, they too might go through what he was currently going through; this horrible feeling of paranoia that had him awake at nights, terrified if the murderer would come back and kill him. If he broke into his house the first time, what was stopping him from doing it again? Maybe he should tell his grandpa, but wouldn't that be endangering and involving him as well?

_Oh god. What was he to do?_

Yugi was sure his mentality wouldn't be able to take anymore of this paranoia and stress. And he knew definitely that his school work wouldn't be able to endure for it was already starting to suffer. Not to mention he was very anxious of receiving any secret notes from his friends for his mind always replaced the messy font of his friend Jonouchi with the flawless, cursive style of his tormentor, even going so far as to let out a startled gasp of surprise during class when Jono had slipped it to him. If it weren't for the teacher being out the class for a minute, Yugi was sure he would be juggling both a detention and an annoyed Jono who had shot him a worried, yet still annoyed glance. He was positive that Jono had told the rest of their group of friends about that particular accident. Yeah, his life was certainly taking a turn for the worst.

"Earth to Yugi! Dude you have been spacing out so much lately. Care to tell us what's going on?" Jono inquired none to gently through the pizza he was eating, receiving a scathing glance from Anzu at how poorly he asked the question they all been harboring. Nevertheless, Yugi could still felt a total of four pairs of questioning eyes on him, the guilt only growing.

"I'm sorry guys. Lately, sleep is a little hard to come by." It was as close as Yugi was going to get to the truth without revealing too much. God he felt like a criminal.

"Is it because of the accident?" Malik guessed, making Yugi sigh mentally at the Egyptian's intuition. He really was good at reading people to well.

"Yes."

"But I thought you had gotten over that Yugi?" Weary, amethyst eyes strayed over to his British friend who in turn frowned with worry.

'_I lied to you all about that haven't I?_'

"Not quite, Ryo."

Jono finally swallowed his pizza and stared strangely at Yugi, making the smaller teen want to flinch back from the intensity of the gaze. "You should stop thinking about the past, Yugi."

'_Would you say that if someone was killed at your doorstep?_'

Yugi really wanted to say such a thing to his brash friend to retaliate against his lack of sensitivity for the subject that was tormenting him, but instead, he settled for gazing forlornly at his untouched pizza that couldn't even get a rise out of his empty stomach. When had he eaten exactly? Yugi couldn't even remember that. What was happening to him?

"You guys are unbelievable! Do you possibly know what Yugi could be going through right now?"

Normally, if he wasn't troubled by these horrible things, Yugi would have blushed at the fact of Anzu coming to his defense like this, but he could only manage a diminutive smile that was sent in her direction. She was really too furious with the others who were cowering slightly from her temper to see his expression, but it didn't bother him like it _usually_ would have. His love for her or whatever it had been seemed to ebb away for possibly two reasons. The first reason being the obvious one that he was still preoccupied with everything else involving the murder a few days ago. The second, which really didn't come as a surprise to Yugi, was the fact that he simply couldn't stop picturing that handsome man Yami, the one with soul-stealing, fiery, crimson eyes.

God he was so handsome and enthralling in the way he carried himself and spoke with such refined speech, that baritone voice of his so rich and commanding. Never had his heart beat so fast before in his entire life, not even when standing in the presence of Anzu whom he thought he loved. The best she could do was make him blush, but Yami…he could do so much more, with just his eyes and voice. Yugi was sure if it weren't for this fear and anxiety at expecting something horrible happening again, than he would be thinking about this devilishly, handsome stranger. And perhaps, if he was intrigued enough, Yugi would perhaps try to seek him out again, just to speak with him that is. Nothing more.

"It's ok, Anzu," Yugi assured, rising out of his seat. "They are just trying to help in their own way," he teased playfully, making them smile at seeing a glimpse of their old friend returning. It was intriguing how the thought of a man he had only once met changed him, even if it was only slightly. "Guys, I'll see you around. I'm going to head home to help my grandpa around the shop."

"Then can I have your pizza Yugi?" Jono asked hungrily, eyeing the desired item with an insatiable hunger. Everyone rolled their eyes at their forever hungry friend.

"Help yourself Jono."

Dismissing his self with a simple wave of the hand, Yugi shot them a fleeting, reassuring smile before heading out into Domino city's humid atmosphere, regretting the idea of putting on the dark-blue jacket he was currently wearing, and mentally cursing the weatherman for his horrible judgment when predicting the weather. He was coming to question himself as to why he even bothered listening to the man guess wrongly about the outcome of the weather. When it was supposed to rain, the sun came out in all its radiant glory, making many people feel stupid for their choice in clothing. The weatherman was unreliable and in dire need for a replacement. Yugi wouldn't be surprised if the poor guy was fired, not that he would wish that upon him because he simply couldn't. It went against his nature.

Sighing in depression, Yugi once again felt his thoughts stray to that particular topic that had him looking inconspicuously at all the passing pedestrians traveling to their own destinations, mildly wondering if the murderer was in the area, watching him, planning. Would it look strange if he suddenly burst into a sprint to reach home faster? Honestly, walking in public was beginning to make him jittery and no longer contained the pleasantness that it used to provide him with. His current thought-process wouldn't allow him to enjoy this little exercise without him having to wander if the person casually walking behind him was following him. Even now, when he was but a few blocks away from his home, Yugi couldn't help throw a stray glance over his shoulder and examine the job-weary looking man behind him for any form of trouble. He often wondered how long it would take this ridiculous paranoia of fearing random people to consume him.

Apparently, it wouldn't be long if he continued like this.

Once again, Yugi sighed as he crossed the street, freezing in fear as soon as he was on the other side. There on the front door was a white note taped to it to prevent the flimsy thing from flying away should a sudden gust of air strike, written in neat handwriting. It took all of Yugi's shaky courage to force himself to get closer so he can see it better, but soon became happy he did so for it was not what he believed it to be. It was a simple note written by his grandfather stating that he went grocery shopping. To think, he was going to have a nervous breakdown in public over a simple note his grandpa written for him. The paranoia was really affecting him more than he thought.

"Geez, I need to relax. I almost freaked out over a silly little note," Yugi laughed nervously to himself as he entered the house, trying to reassure himself that everything was fine. The killer hadn't contacted him in three days. Desperately, he hoped the killer had lost interest in someone as ordinary as him so he could put all this madness into the past like Jono suggested.

If only fate was generous.

As soon as Yugi made it to his room, the first thing that jumped at him with all its horrific glory was red cursive font written on clean, white paper, lying in the exact same spot where its predecessor once lay. It took Yugi a couple of minutes to comprehend what exactly had his mind in a state of shock. When it finally did, it took the sheer strength of his will-power to not go cower in a corner and start crying unstoppable. Perhaps it was the fact that his mind was possibly masochistic or enjoyed bringing more horror to his life because sooner than Yugi anticipated, he finally gathered the resolve to approach the letter and read what it contained with trembling fingers.

_Dear Yugi,_

_I give you my sincerest apologies for not contacting you for the last few days, for life was demanding my attention. Forgive me. However, my mind was pleasantly occupied with thoughts of you and how I desire to see you. I was greatly disappointed when you weren't at your house for it would have been a great chance to get acquainted with each other. No matter. We can still see each other, perhaps later today so we can both have time to prepare. It is preferable if you came alone, my little inspiration. I wouldn't want to ruin our time together with the chore of killing someone. We can meet at Domino Park, around 7:00 at noon. I'm confident you will recognize me. Don't keep me waiting, my little muse. Patience isn't one of my strongest qualities._

_From your secret admirer_

'_This must be a nightmare; a horribly, realistic nightmare._' Yugi convinced himself as he gazed blankly at the letter, his subconscious telling him unmercifully the exact opposite of his wishful thinking. No matter how hard he tried to deny it or falsely convince himself that everything was a lie, Yugi knew his life had transformed into a game. The ultimate game: the game of survival. From here on out, his decisions would determine how long he had left to live and what situation he would find himself in. Could Yugi honestly say he was ready for this?

Not ever.

"What should I do?" Groaned the mentally stressed high school student as he fell ungracefully on his bed, note discarded, amethyst orbs closed to the world, trying so hard to resist the tears that burned his eyelids. What did one do when confronted with the situation of having to meet a killer? Did they not go? No. That was totally out of the question. Yugi had no choice but to go, especially if he can practically hear the wordless threat implied in the letter should he not go like he was expected. Seeing as his consent didn't matter, Yugi began considering the idea of bringing the police with him.

_It is preferable if you came alone… _

The teenager flinched visibly. Bringing reinforcements was not a good idea if he didn't want to witness another death because something foreign told him that this killer wouldn't be the one dying. He was beginning to feel that this situation was indeed a hopeless one and so, he prepared himself to resign to his predicted fate. Yugi was definitely not a pessimist but even he knew that the killer didn't request his presence simply to make polite conversation with him. He was literally walking to his death. Well, if one was going to their death, wouldn't it be for the best if they at least tried to look appealing?

_Ring!_

'_My final phone call,_' Yugi thought with a forlorn expression that seemed to be occurring in frequency lately, not even bothering to glimpse the caller idea because at this point, he was glad to be talking to anyone.

"Hello?"

"_-Are you okay? You sound a little depressed. Did something happen?-_" Anzu asked quickly, jumping straight to the point. Her concern was so immediate that Yugi couldn't properly respond for a minute as he felt a single tear cascade down his smooth cheek, his emotions almost overwhelming him once the full weight of what was going to transpire later on. So close he was to breaking down into tears right there on the phone and confessing to his concerned friend about his recent horrors, just so he could have even a minuscule of comfort.

"Nothing happened. Just a bit weary, I swear," he assured sincerely, despite how much effort it took just to control the shakiness of his voice. Yugi couldn't afford to slip up, especially right now when Anzu could sense something was off about him. Somewhere engrained in that wonderful, protective personality of hers was the perceptiveness of an experienced investigator.

"_-Yugi…please don't lie to me. It's not helping because I'm already worried as it is.-_" She was quite for a short amount time before speaking again, her voice so much softer, coaxing almost. "_-Is what happened on Saturday troubling you Yugi?-_"

'_Lie,'_ his brain screamed, but his heart foolishly didn't comply with the well-advised order. "Yes."

"_-Want to talk about it?-_"

"Yes."

'_What am I doing!?_'

The girl released a sigh of relief and Yugi was unwaveringly sure that she was smiling as if she accomplished something impossible, which it kind of was. He was well known for being reserved with personal matters, and this time wasn't any different, except that this secret was life-threatening and had the potential of making him miserable, which it was already accomplishing

"_-How about we talk about this while taking a walk through the park? We can meet there at the memorial statute in the middle of the park at 7:00. Sounds good?-_"

"Sounds perfect!" He exclaimed, only to realize with a mind-numbing horror at what he just agreed to, his heart ceasing to beat for what felt like an agonizing eternity when in actuality, only a millisecond had passed.

"_-See you soon.-_"

_Click._

Amethyst eyes wide open in a shuddering horror, vocal cords dysfunctional, and heart beating to the melody of pure dread, Yugi felt a completely numbing sensation encase him completely, comparable to donning on a heavy coat of frost. Everything around him became silenced except for the deafening sound of his own blood pounding in his ears, threatening to rob him of the ability to hear. His lungs soon found it difficult to filter in air and began to urge the breathing-reflex to struggle for more air to the point where his breath-intake surpassed normal intervals, making him dangerously close to hyperventilating. Conscious thought began to become sparse until he was nothing but a lifeless doll staring into nothingness, the numbness still there. If it weren't for the telltale sound of his heart crashing against his chest-cavity, Yugi would have believed he just died, even if his thoughts began to take a chaotic turn.

_Why had he done that? _

Tears, unhindered and endless, began to trail in rivulets down his pale cheek as the question began to repeat itself in his mind, over and over again, tormenting him until he began to sob uncontrollable. The possibility-no, the fact that he just doomed his friend made the guilt in his heart unbearable, practically converting the emotional pain into one that was physical.

_Had he just sentenced his friend to death? _

Anzu was always there for him in his time for need and it would seem that to repay for her unrequested kindness, he had just sent her to her death. He was such a horrible friend. Maybe it wasn't too late for him to change this. He could still cancel this meeting even if it would hurt her feelings and summon more questions that would make him uncomfortable. But if it would spare her life, than Yugi would take her insistent questions any day, forcing his numb fingers to dial her number, and then listening anxiously to her phone ring. Seconds passed and then converted to minutes, the elapsed time doing painful things to his heart and nerves. More time passed and he pulled away with a blank expression, beautiful amethyst orbs hollowed and dull.

"_-Hello, this is Anzu Mazaki. I'm sorry I couldn't get to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, I will be sure to get back to you!-_"

How unkind fate was.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/-

"If I do say so myself sir, you look marvelous."

A satisfied smirk curved Yami's lips as he appraised himself further in the mirror, believing his attire was perfect for the evening he had planned with his little inspiration. His outfit consisted of a silk, blood-red dress shirt with an upturned collar and gold-colored buttons; expensive, satin-black slacks that were held up by a durable, black-leather belt; and finally a pair of polished, leather-black shoes. It was a simple outfit with a classy, comfortable feel to it which fit Yami's personality well. Now all that was left was the main question if Yugi would like it.

"Veronica," he smiled charmingly as he turned to look at his maid, making the young woman blush at receiving such a handsome smile from him. "Prepare my limo for me. I will be leaving shortly. And please do it quickly."

'_Or I'll kill you later._'

Bowing in a respectful fashion, the woman exited her master's bedroom in a rush to comply with his wishes, leaving the artist to the welcomed silence of his personal chambers. So foolish his servants were in trying to please him so fervently for Yami would still kill them off if he was provoked by their annoyance that was stemmed from their desire to cater to his every whim. Something about them just set the artist off or perhaps it was just the malicious urge to see some innocent blood spilled. It was definitely the latter for he could feel the remnants of his charming smile turn to a sadistic grin at the thought of the bright-colored liquid that coated his hands regularly. Already he could feel the bloodlust awakening again at the thought of shedding blood, instinctively making his hand reach for the dagger that lay discarded on his table, tempting him with its intricate designs.

Since being occupied by important art collectors that were browsing his art pieces in his gallery these last few days, Yami hadn't had the time to satiate his appetite for death like he usually did considering the fact he was exhausted from restraining his powerful desire to slaughter his guests. Their endless praise and attempts at striking an interesting conversation was grinding dangerously at his nerves while simultaneously deafening him. To think, that he believed to know all the methods of torture because obviously he was wrong. If it weren't for his favorite wine that acted as a nerve-relaxant and the constant thoughts of Yugi entertaining his mind, than he would have snapped in an instant, losing grip over his bloodlust. But that was over now and he could give his full attention to the matter at hand which was how to get Yugi to stay with him.

Yami released a groan of annoyance as he sat in a throne-like chair, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought while his hand continuously massaged his temple to quell his growing aggravation. Obtaining Yugi would have been easier if the teenager was at his house when he dropped by for a visit, intending to speak with him and offer the proposal he had in mind. But seeing as he wasn't, Yami would have to state his offer over dinner. He already was impatient and irritated as it is from the whole art collector torture and now he was delayed in getting Yugi. Was he never to be satisfied? Apparently so because things were not going as he planned.

"Your limo is ready for you sir," Veronica said announcing her presence, bringing Yami out of his momentary lapse of stress.

"Thank you."

Contemplating on taking his dagger or not, Yami looked at the weapon for an elongated minute before exiting his room, deciding against taking any weapons. If everything proceeded smoothly, than there would be no need for weapons. Should it not…Yami shook his head. Everything would go accordingly. With this small, reassuring thought boosting his confidence, Yami exited his manor with Veronica faithfully keeping stride with him, attempting to flatter him when all it did was irritate him. If it weren't for the protective fact that they were outside with people taking evening walks, the artist would have snapped her pretty neck in multiple ways. He preferred the sound of bones snapping over that agitating noise that was the women's constant chatter. And it was with an inward grin of relief that he finally dove into his personal limo to escape the hellish hole that was Veronica's mouth.

"Have fun Mr. Atemu!" The woman waved as the black-tinted window of the limousine slid up, silencing her meaningless goodbyes.

"So long Veronica," Yami hummed as he helped himself to a glass of his favorite wine, feeling it relax his nerves in an instant. "I toast to your upcoming death."

Laughing darkly, Yami sipped casually at his state-of-the-art wine, enjoying the plush upholstery and black-leather interior of his limousine, and adjusting the dimmable, ambient lighting to suit his mood, which was one of immense relaxation. He couldn't wait until he had his little Yugi at his side, breathing in his scent like it was the very air that filled his lungs, and feeling the warm, little body pressing against his comfortably. His little inspiration would follow him everywhere he deemed and Yami would spoil him with anything that pure heart of his desired, every little whim that could be fulfilled. All he demanded in return was the pleasure of filling that hateful, blank canvas with his image, finally getting rid of that voice that mocked him every night about his lack of artistic imagination. But soon, that voice will have nothing to mock upon seeing the best creation that he ever created.

_Very soon._

"Mr. Atemu," addressed his driver respectfully, momentarily gaining Yami's undivided attention as he spoke through the intercom, "May I ask what destination you have in mind?"

"Domino Park."

"As you wish sir."

Scarlet irises strayed towards the now open window, taking in the view of walking pedestrians who gazes would sometimes stray over in his direction, reflecting the emotions of curiosity or envy. Foolish people they were. What they believed money to be was ridiculous. It didn't make life any easier liked they falsely believed but in fact made things more difficult. When one possessed the corrupting influence of cash, you are overcome by greed and whatever decency you possessed would be eroded in minutes to make way for power. Yami saw no power in money that many people thought they saw, and instead, saw nothing but a waste of material. The power that intoxicated Yami was the one derived from killing, the euphoric feel of gratification at besting your opponent. He lived to harness the human's primitive instinct to hunt and convert it into an art form that he only understood. But that's where Yugi came in. It was time to share what he saw in death with his little inspiration and perhaps he would come to understand the true depths of the art he created, not the reflection he showed to others.

But what if he _didn't_ understand?

Glass shattered into sharp fragments at the pressure Yami unknowingly applied to his wine glass in reaction to his thought, some pieces embedding into his hand, summoning red droplets that fell to the dark floor, creating a sickening melody. The pain he felt barely registered in his mind as he sat there motionlessly, staring blankly at his wounded hand. Normally, the pain would have been enjoyable duo to his sadomasochistic nature, but all it did was provide an annoyance. The constant possibility that Yugi wouldn't understand him was almost unfathomable to Yami, yet it was beginning to become troublesome. All this effort he was putting to please his little muse and have him at his side would all be for naught. What would he do if Yugi didn't understand?

_Kill him…_

Yami stiffened. That was his solution to everything wasn't it? But could it be the solution this time for the artist was having slight trouble with the idea of killing such a pure creature. Again, he stiffened, the blood from his wounds steadily dripping to the floor at a rhythm that would prove to be disturbing from how it was the only sound audible in the vehicle, aside from the mechanic hum of the engine. Never had the artist ever encountered the problem of hesitating to kill someone. When it came to the act of killing, he never wavered, but now…thinks to the interference of this teenager, he was _hesitating_. It was completely foreign to him. When he painted, the strokes of his brush where already predetermined, mechanical almost, set on the goal of completion.

The way he killed was no different.

So why was it that he couldn't picture holding a knife to that boy's milky neck, getting ready to cut through flesh and tissue to spill warm blood? Why was it so difficult to picture the teenager's fragile body sprawled before him in a pool of blood, amethyst eyes sightless and glazed over in horror like his other victims, mouth agape in a silent scream? Enraptured by his thoughts, Yami failed to notice his injured hand clenching tightly, forcibly drawing more blood until the limb was smothered in it, the dim lighting giving the red liquid a lambent appearance. The increased pain wasn't even registered in his stressed mind.

Was he finally losing his touch?

"_Fuck it!_" Hissed the artist indiscreetly, slamming his abused fist into the door, staining it with blood, and sending a rippling pain up his arm. "I will kill him if it comes to it. He will not be spared…not like _him_…" He trailed off as his eyes clouded over in remembrance, not hearing the window that acted as a divider between the driver and he slide down.

"Sir, we've arrived at the park." The driver finally noticed his passenger's bloody hand, immediately becoming concerned. "Mr. Atemu, your hand! Are you okay?"

Crimson orbs narrowed dangerously onto his unfortunate driver with a frightening intensity, making the nervous man fidget under his unmerciful gaze. In a non-threatening motion, Yami reached for a secluded bottle of wine and a glass from the compartment of his miniature bar, pouring the intoxicating liquid until the glass was filled to the brim, gesturing to the man to take the drink. Nervous and suspicious of the drink, the man took it and drunk a little at a time before drinking with zest, never having to taste such exquisite liquor before.

"Consider it as a thank you for being an excellent driver," Yami softly said as he began to exit the vehicle while wrapping a layer of gauze around his wounded hand.

"Will your hand be ok?"

"Of course," he smiled insidiously as he walked away, gaining some distance. "But you won't be in a matter of hours."

Inside the liquor was a fatal poison that would kill him in matter of hours, torturing him every second as the poison deteriorated every organ until there was nothing left but a sizzling, nauseating liquid, making every moment of elapsed time agony. Of course, there will only be minor symptoms such as coughing up blood and the unpredictable intervals of pain, but that was how Yami liked his non-physical killings. Agonizing and prolonged.

_Never had death sound so satisfying…_

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/-

Anxiety and terror were the first things Yugi felt upon entering the suspiciously vacant park or perhaps, it had been amplified because during his whole trip there, he was nearly hyperventilating and staggering under the weight of his fear. The fear of being late prevented Yugi from lingering around his house like a coward afraid to approach his destiny. But this wasn't his destiny he was walking forcibly into; no this was his death that couldn't wait to claim him…forever. Several times while he was dressing for this dreaded occasion, he considered just dropping his chosen clothing and locking himself in his room forever. At the time, defying his tormentor sounded way more appealing than going to meet him in person, but then the thought registered that should he not come at all, he might become furious enough to seek him out again. For one thing, Yugi didn't want to be traced all the way back to his house for it felt like it was his sanctuary, even if it had been trespassed more than once already, and no longer held the invincibility that Yugi thought it held previously.

_What time was it? _

A crystal-like tear managed to slip from glistening amethyst orbs as Yugi surveyed the desolate area of his once favored park, noting how eerie it felt compared to its normal liveliness it exuded every day. Was nature preparing for his death now? He smiled forlornly at such a question, subconsciously tracing the smooth material of his favored, closed-buckled, leather choker. Honestly, Yugi wasn't completely sure to as to what to wear when his mind was troubled constantly with the outcome of later events, the thought affecting him so much that he was trembling through the whole procedure, coming close to faint more times than he could count. In spite of this, Yugi fortunately managed to piece together his fragmented will and pick out an outfit, one that was in his comfort zone and was hopefully presentable.

The outfit consented of a simple black, form-fitting shirt; a grey, zip-up vest; leather, gold-buckled belt; comfortable, black pants, and a matching pair of shoes. It was a rather simple in appearance and not made to impress but give off a feeling that he was comfortable, which was sadly ironic considering he was far from it.

Beautiful, amethyst orbs solemn, expression grim, Yugi proceeded to walk through the nearly uninhabited park with searching eyes, feeling uncomfortable at how eerie the silence was, as if preparing to welcome deathly scene, but nonetheless still searching for Anzu. If luck was on his side, he could find Anzu and convince her through cautious means to leave, but even he knew that was so unlikely to happen. She was a very stubborn person, a trait he found admirable in her but now, he couldn't help but curse it. He chuckled woefully at this, beginning to come to a halt as soon as the park's monument came into his keen vision, making him smile, if only slightly, at what he believed to be a small representation of human ingenuity.

The statue was in the figure of a thoughtful man gazing dreamily into the distance with his faithful dog resting peacefully at his side, flawlessly sculpted from high-quality marble. Inscribed into the bottom of the statue was semi-ancient text, mercilessly eroded into incoherent symbols from the hands of time. Under better circumstances, Yugi would have traced the time-worn text in fascination like he occasionally did when visiting the park, enthralled by the years of knowledge it seemed to possess in its smooth marble surface. Even now, he couldn't help but lift his hand towards it and…

"Yugi."

Literally jumping into the air in fright, Yugi pivoted around fast enough to give him whiplash as his startled brain struggled to comprehend the significance of the person before him, instantly surprised at who it was. It was Yami in all his enchanting magnificence, dressed in casual wear that labeled him as a living-sex god, those mystifying crimson eyes of his gazing at him with amusement and a strange curiosity. Almost instantly, Yugi felt his heartbeat exceed its normal rate of beating at being in this handsome person's presence, blushing in his embarrassment at being caught off-guard and reacting the way he did.

The other must be thinking that he was a very abnormal person, but the way the other was gazing at him with such interest, Yugi could swear Yami thought much differently. It began to make the high school student slightly apprehensive of him, but only just a little. Besides, what were the chances of Yami actually turning out to be dangerous person? None. However, Yugi couldn't stop the familiar saying of how looks could be deceiving from trespassing in his mind, making him apprehensive once more.

"M-Mr. Yami," Yugi stuttered, still recovering from his surprise, "what a pleasant surprise! I-I didn't expect you to be here."

If Yugi didn't know any better, he would have believed Yami looked, to some degree, offended by what he just said. He didn't have time to double-check because the expression was replaced by some form indifference, those burning eyes narrowed on him, as if searching for something, something unexplainable. "How can that be when I told you I was I coming?"

"Pardon?" Yugi uttered in his confusion, the blood pounding deafeningly in his ears as he began to feel something was horribly wrong, like he was going to discover something that could scare him beyond all belief.

Something akin to understanding dawned on Yami's handsome face as he smiled unnervingly towards the nervous teenager, his rich baritone voice dropping into a curious whisper. "Do you know who I am Yugi? Or better yet, _my little inspiration_."

The world came crashing down in a terrifying shade of grey in Yugi's petrified amethyst orbs, not even hesitating in relying on the basic human survival instinct to run as his mind became an uncomprehendable mixture of fear and survival, releasing a startled, high-pitched sound of horror when he felt a powerful hand latch tightly around his arm, before reigning him into a firm embrace, effectively immobilizing him. He was demoralized when realizing that any attempt to escape would prove exhausting duo to how he could literally feel Yami's strength through this hold, like he was only using a minimal of strength. It scared him so much that he began trembling almost unstoppably, numb to the sensual caress of a hand attempting to soothe him along the milky expanse of his neck, disquieted by the husky breathing ghosting his ear. God he was so scared now…

"Why did you run from me? I thought you would have been pleased to see me. Am I wrong to assume this, Yugi?" Mused Yami thoughtfully, voice containing such a lethal edge that Yugi felt as if the words themselves manifested into keen-edged knife that rested dangerously to his neck.

"You're a murderer," he reasoned quietly, surprising him with the fact that his vocal cords remained functional, but also reprimanding himself with dread at his foolish response.

"And that bothers you?" It seemed like genuine perplexity to Yugi, yet it would be foolish not to consider the chance Yami was mocking him.

"Wouldn't it bother you if you valued your life!?" He hissed venomously, immediately regretting it when he heard the imperceptible shift in Yami's breathing, feeling the embrace tighten for a moment. Had he angered the killer?

Shockingly, Yami released him from his hold with an eerie detachment in his movements, daring him with smoldering, crimson eyes to even attempt running away, unaware to the insignificant detail that he was bringing Yugi's anxiety to dangerous heights. Those eyes, with all of their burning magnificence, commanded him to stay but his panicking mind screamed loudly to run, trying fruitlessly to make his cemented feet comprehend the thought of escaping. Was he so afraid that his body had shut down? All he wanted was to escape those intense crimson eyes that threatened to consume him lest he not look away, and that near psychotic smile that seemed to exempt control over how fast his heartbeat. Oh god, why couldn't he run?

"You're afraid that I might kill you, Yugi?" Yami questioned lowly, breathing slowly, as if exhausted.

"Yes," he confessed, despite the fact that he was certain doing so wasn't a good idea.

Before Yugi's over-taxed brain could register the inhumanely fast movement, Yami had crossed what little space between them in disturbingly graceful steps, tilting up Yugi's chin with a single finger so their eyes could meet in a heavy silence, the lack of noise proving to be too much for Yugi's nerves as he began to feel lightheaded. And as if sensing this, Yami wrapped his arm securely around the younger's waist to prevent such an ungraceful fall, quietly relishing in the pleasure of once again holding his little muse. So fragile he was, so easily breakable and vulnerable in Yami's blood-red eyes, filling him with a sudden mirth. How easy it would be to break him.

"Your fear is unneeded," Yami assured, speaking huskily into twitching ears. "I'm not here to kill you."

Relief flooded Yugi in waves after hearing such a thing, finally unmasking the curiosity he was feeling. "If you're not going to kill me, than what do you want from me?"

Chuckling with an almost sadistic delight, a sound that filled the anxious teenager with a horrible sense of foreboding, Yami pulled away a little as to have a better sight of those beautiful amethyst orbs he loved so much, amused at how much fear that was installed in them. "My little muse, you seem not to understand your role in this game. So therefore, I shall elaborate." His voice took on an undertone of sadism, apparently enjoying this while Yugi could finally glimpse some of the well-guarded madness swirling unstably in scarlet depths, easily trivializing what little hope he had of making it out of this crazy situation unscathed. This man, as handsome and seductive as he appeared, housed the insanity of the mentally unstable, meaning that Yugi would have to be more cautious than before seeing as his actions would be unpredictable. Still, Yugi couldn't help but feel sympathy for him as he mentally wondered what could have caused Yami to fall into the inescapable abyss of madness. Maybe he too was crazy for feeling sympathy for a killer.

"You are my inspiration, the reason why I kill," Yugi looked aghast, "the reason why my life has meaning now. I live to create art in the image of what I see in you. And I _see _so many things in you Yugi, that I'm amazed I haven't found you earlier." He raised a hand to tenderly caress the baby-soft skin of Yugi's face with sincere affection, startling the poor teenager for he didn't know whether to flinch back or guilty enjoy the warm touch. "Which is why, I seek to impress you, to gain your appreciation. Ordinary people simply don't understand me and have fallen for the guise that hides my true self. Yugi," Yami's eyes darkened significantly while his voice became laced with a coat of sin, "you're the only one that could understand me. Never has anyone made me feel so strongly and yet so confused at the same time," Yami paused as he sighed, massaging his temple as he fixed Yugi with such a strange look. And then, he spoke once more, causing Yugi's heart to stop once again at his words, but this time it was worse, so much worse:

"I'm infatuated with you."

_Silence…_

"I cannot stop thinking about you."

_Ba-bump_

"I yearn for you."

'_No…he can't say those things! Why does my heart hurt so much!?_'

"Yugi…," a gauzed covered hand reached out to touch the panicking teenager that was backing up clumsily in his attempts to get away, soon pressing up against the statue.

'_Stay away!_' His mind screamed while feeling fresh tears, without warning, cascade down his cheeks as he trembled, so confused and unable to think clearly enough to properly handle the situation.

Narrowed, crimson eyes scrutinized Yugi as their eyes met in a perpetual silence, seeing the panic clearly in refined amethyst eyes. "You still fear me after what I revealed to you?" Already Yami could feel a violent angry surge strongly in him at the possibility of Yugi rejecting him, meaning he could feel that uncontrollable desire to kill, to see that wondrous red liquid spill from innocent veins. If weren't for his desire to hear Yugi's response, the need to kill would overcome all rational thought, just like all the other times when his anger was too much of an opponent to handle. Where was his favorite wine when he needed it so it could soothe him?

"Why?"

Yami blinked in slight puzzlement at the hoarsely voiced question. "What?"

Still shaken and experiencing an overflow of emotions that threatened to spill over in a chaotic wave, Yugi finally stopped his shaking and dried his tears with his sleeve, gazing at the killer with such grief-stricken eyes, exhausted and confused beyond all reason. "Why did you pick me?" '_Why did you decide to ruin my life_,' was what he really wanted to say, but felt that would be unwise to say towards a killer.

Nothing was said for approximately five minutes until Yami flashed him a disturbing grin, turning Yugi's blood cold. "The answer will come to you in time; be patient my little muse. Now come with me, I've made some reservations at a restaurant. It would be unwise to miss them."

About to relay his ill-considered answer, Yugi opened his mouth to protest stubbornly when a familiar voice shouted his name, immediately feeling the gut-clenching dread as he turned to meet the owner of said voice, so very close to having a heart attack.

"Yugi!"

'_Oh no…_'

Frigid, scarlet eyes quickly fixated themselves onto the panting girl now in front of his muse, murderous intent reflecting in their cold surfaces. The physically exhausted girl turned and gazed curiously at him, ocean-blue eyes meeting burning crimson, a tense silence overcoming everyone. Fear encased Yugi in seconds as he read the dangerous annoyance expressed on Yami's face, but upon sighting the cold, murderous desire burning hot in those fiery eyes, Yugi became petrified.

_Anzu would die._

**_

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**_A/N: _**-Evil laugh- Yes cliffhanger. I was bit evil with that. Can you guess whats going to happen?


	3. Wicked Game

**_A/N: _**First off, I would like to think my reviewers for well...reviewing my story. Its makes me happy to see that people enjoy this piece of insanity I have created. Its very motivating. Anyway, I would like to say I really don't know when I'll be able to update because school has started. Already I've been bombarded by test and stuff and I hate it. Stupid school...it sucks. So, in order to make up for that, I present to you the longest and most disturbing chapter as of yet. If this don't please you, then I don't know what will so shot me. However, this is when the horror element of this story comes into play so I actually had to mark that particular part for those who don't like blood and gore. You don't have to read that part if you don't want to. But should you, I **_strongly recommend _**that you don't eat anything. It might make you just a teeny sick. lol. Anyway, enjoy.

**_Chapter Warning_**: Blood, gore, death, and violence. **_YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!_**

**__**

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**_Wicked Game_**

_A game without rules…isn't a game at all…_

"Yugi," Anzu started, extremely curious and suspicious at once, "is he a friend of yours? You guys share a striking resemblance."

'_Speak fool_,' hissed Yugi's brain harshly, causing widened amethyst orbs to shift rapidly between his two companions, one genuinely curious, the other belaying a silent murderous intent through the mere stiffness of his standing position, crimson eyes judging the woman before him with the hidden intention of killing her like an animal to a slaughter.

If only Yugi could find the right words to remedy this situation, that is if there are any to begin with because everything was beginning to look bleak the longer he just stood there idly, shivering like a furless dog on a harsh winter night. But how could he when he was under the suffocating pressure of crimson eyes boring intensely into his skull, mutely inquiring about the presence of his friend, choking him up. How was he to tell the other when Anzu was right there, gazing at him with such a furious concern the longer his voice went unheard. No matter how much he wished it, Yugi couldn't burrow into the sheltering earth like he wanted to, cowardly escaping his troubles while everyone else basked in the consequences. God why couldn't he speak? Why did his tongue feel like lead in his throat, waiting to finally choke him under the pressure he was mercilessly receiving?

"Yugi? Are you okay? You're so pale?" Her hand, the one that previously used to comfort him in the distant past, settled along the junction of his neck and collar bone, so warm and welcoming. From the corner of quickly-panicking amethyst eyes, Yugi caught the sight of Atem, who looked to be losing his composure suddenly, going utterly rigid at the gesture Anzu bestowed instinctively upon him, a jealous rage quickly conquering all other emotion in smoldering, blood-red depths.

Death was awaiting the girl the longer she made contact with him, forcing him to politely shrug off the offending appendage and smile apologetically at her, trying his best to mask his guilt when the hurt expression graced her pretty face. And even still, Yugi couldn't find his voice like he so desired, beginning to fidget under the jealousy he still felt from Yami and the gradually angering Anzu who stood with her arms crossed, the beige jacket of hers doing nothing to protect her from the evening cold. He couldn't help but think with a resigned irony at how he wished to help his friend avoid her death earlier, but when faced with the chance, he couldn't do so because of his own paralyzing fear. The fear that should he say something out-of-line, Anzu would be dead in a seconds. Was heaven going to lock its heavenly gates and forbid him from entering god's domain, sentencing him to the unforgiving pits of hell?

"Yugi is fine. He's just in a temporary shock from finally seeing me after all these years. Isn't that right, little brother?"

Shocked and equally amazed, Yugi blinked owlishly at Yami for his ingenious cover-story, becoming more amazed when he saw realization dawn on Anzu's face, fascination in her ocean-blue eyes. Already Yugi could fell her inquiring silently about how he hadn't spoken about any siblings in his life. How could he when he himself didn't know about it?

"Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you…"

"Yami."

"Just Yami?" Her voice bespoke volumes of disbelief, looking towards Yugi for any semblance of truth, which was found in the way he smiled, masking the sudden feeling of foreboding clawing mercilessly at the walls of his stomach. Even though Yami had yet to reveal his whole name to him, Yugi still felt that something was wrong, like the name itself was the key to discovering information that was vital.

"Yes." Yugi could feel rather than hear the venom pouring into his tormentor's voice. If Anzu weren't so immersed into her strange fascination towards him, she would have heard it to and probably would have finally caught onto the fact that he wanted her dead. The question as to why she was fascinated with him stirred unpleasantly in Yugi's tortured conscious, praying to god that Anzu didn't develop in interest in Yami, a sadistic murderer. From the experience of being her long-term friend, Yugi knew that should she develop an interest in a person, she wouldn't stop until every detail about her target was discovered, ranging from appearance to personal secrets. Yugi classified that as a form of stalking and had often hinted at such towards his blissfully ignorant friend, receiving only a dismissing wave of the hand and a half-hearted reply.

Right now, Yugi couldn't afford to allow Anzu fascination to expand any longer, his resolve on the matter giving him access to his formerly dysfunctional vocal cords, but still feeling a hesitance towards speaking. "Anzu…I think you should go."

Evidently, the girl didn't seem to appreciate his opinion in the less considering how displeased she looked, fixing him with an affronted glare, as if he wronged her someway. "Why? You're the one who wanted to meet here and talk about what's been bothering you."

'_Oh Anzu…_'

Apprehensive towards Yami's reaction that stemmed from Anzu's imprudent revelation, Yugi refused to turn around and concentrated on his shoes, suddenly finding an interest in them. Fear enhanced his hearing slightly, becoming responsible as to why he heard Yami's strong hands clench wrathfully in his pockets, followed by a lacerating gaze slicing hotly into his back, making poor Yugi break out into a light perspiration. He hadn't counted on or even considered on Yami finding out as to why Anzu was here in the first place, figuring that he would be too encased in his rage to care. What a horrible miscalculation he made. Now as consequence to his mistake, Yami would no doubt become more set on killing her than before. But even if the thought disgusted him, Yugi couldn't help but wonder why Yami hadn't killed her yet or at least attempted to do so. Was he waiting for something? Or better yet…

_Was he unable to?_

Yugi hoped and prayed that was the case because he couldn't take anymore of this suspense.

"I-I did," Yugi admitted very quietly, hearing expensive fabrics further clench in building anger. "It's just that my brother had something planned for when he got here. If I had known beforehand, I would have told you so."

Anzu, skeptical about his story and still judging the accuracy of it, pulled out her sky-blue cell-phone from her purse, tinkering with it for unknown reasons before once again turning her attention to him, weary faced. "Fine then, I'll see you later. Ryo needed my assistance with something anyway so we'll talk later." Ocean-blue eyes averted from wide amethyst in favor of the unreadable, burning orbs of crimson that fascinated her so easily. "Hopefully we can get acquainted with each other in the near future Yami."

"Likewise," Yugi observed the ominous smile on Yami's face with horror steadily dawning on his face, realizing what was going to happen later when he would be unable to hinder his desires.

Yami was going to kill her, when she was alone and defenseless.

A consuming panic collaborated with a temporary lapse of thoughtlessness, causing Yugi to reach out vainly towards Anzu departing form with a reckless determination, a gauzed-covered hand settling over his mouth to stifle his shout while an arm wrapped securely around his slim waist, forestalling any movement he tried to make. '_No_,' his mind wailed in dismay, tears falling unhindered from his glistening amethyst eyes as they watched in failure the longer Anzu's silhouette continued to become obscured, until she was conclusively gone, leaving them alone once more. Yugi, even if he tried, couldn't prevent the trembling from overtaking his body, followed by that horrid numbness that encouraged his heart to stop beating altogether. The will to fight just vanished from within him, not even when he felt the hold upon him release, taking away the support he unconsciously relied on, leaving him to stumble for balance. Out of his peripheral vision, Yugi could see Yami beckon towards him with a lone finger, commanding him to follow as he left with long strides, opposite of Anzu's direction, his face an emotionless mask.

Not wanting to trigger a negative reaction from his unwanted companion, Yugi made haste to keep up with the purposeful movements, unhappy to be leaving the park in favor of wherever Yami may be taking him. And pretty soon, Yugi could see a sleek, black limousine waiting patiently for them, its driver, dressed in uniform black, was holding the door open for them, even though his complexion was getting to a sickly pale and he looked ready to collapse. His intuition and the sadistic amusement swirling in Yami's burning eyes was enough proof for Yugi to assume that Yami was responsible for the man's unhealthy condition, resurrecting his now familiar fear. Fearful or not, Yugi didn't let that prevent him from entering the limo, taking a moment once he got in to appreciate the expensive interior right down to the well-equipped bar and satin-black, leather upholstery. It was with shame that Yugi acknowledged the fact that Yami had exquisite taste.

For some unexplainable reason, Yugi felt his attention drawn towards the semi-carpeted floor, choking down the bile as he spotted a small puddle of blood littered with shards of glass in no particular order. Had Yami killed someone earlier, seeing as the blood looked pretty fresh? The mere thought of murder was enough to remind Yugi of Anzu, quickly turning to face the killer, his handsome face displaying nothing, disturbingly stoic. Before Yugi's mind had a chance to fathom what was going to happen, he had blurted out a shaky request:

"Spare her."

Crimson eyes shifted to meet his; quizzical, still remaining disturbingly quiet.

"I beg you Yami, spare Anzu. Please don't involve her in this," his voice quivered in his anxiety, breaths coming in short as his overly-taxed heart began a nervous crescendo.

Yami's reply was simple and apathetic, crimson eyes satanic in appearance, "No"

_Ba-bump_

"Why?"

_Ba-bump_

"…"

_Ba-bump_

"Why won't you answer me!? Why are you so cruel?"

_Ba-bump_

Blood-red eyes dilated to mere slits, fixated solely on the enraged boy before him.

_Ba-bump_

"Why are you so…heartless?"

_Snap!_

Fingers burrowed deeply into the collar of a black shirt, forcing Yugi down until his back made intimate contact with the leather seat he occupied, Yami hovering over him ominously, breathing heavy, expression one of frigid indifference. But his eyes, oh god his _eyes_, were utterly demonic, like he was possessed by satin himself. It took all of Yugi's almost shattering will to not faint right there on the spot, anything to escape the hellish intensity of those eyes. He crossed the line with that remark, his passionate torrent of questions he had been releasing blinded him to the fact he was wearing away Yami's tolerance for his interrogation. Now he was going to die because he had surely pushed the killer to his breaking point. What had he done?

"I tire of your sudden interest in interrogating me, my little muse. And it's for that sole reason of you being my inspiration that I don't kill you right here," Yugi's breath hitched unbeknownst to him, "so it's well-advised that you don't speak until we arrive at our destination. Am I well understood," warned a dangerous, lethal voice in a frigid whisper, scarlet eyes dimming back to a calmer, ambient glow, a much more preferable sight.

Yugi nodded numbly, throat too desert-dry to make any verbal response.

Apparently satisfied, Yami released Yugi from the effortless death grip, mutely turning away to gaze out the window to gaze distantly at the passing scenery, looking as if he was completely receded into those disturbing thoughts of his. Weren't for the crease in his finely-shaped eyebrows and that impassive frown hardening his handsome features, Yugi would have deemed the other void of all the tension and fury that he previously held, forcing to the open a terrible silence. The high school student was almost wishing that Yami attention was focused on him like it usually was, _almost_ being the key word.

The silence itself was bearable if not still terrible, but it was just the fact that Yugi knew for a fact that there was never supposed to be silence when one was with a murderer. Usually that could mean that he was concocting something horrible or was waiting for the perfect moment to end his life. Or perhaps he had once again fell subject towards his recurring paranoia because even from here, where he sat cautiously pressed against the cool door, Yugi could see nothing but an emotionless façade. What _was _Yami feeling right now? Was he still angry or had he cooled down, even if just a little?

_And it's for that sole reason of you being my inspiration that I don't kill you right here…_

Yugi flinched visibly, his heart still surpassing its normal beating intervals. Yami had considered killing him a second ago…yet Yugi, through the haze of his panic, had seen that the other had reacted purely out of instinct and impulse, as if he wasn't quite angry and had just succumbed to foreign emotions. That impenetrable mask Yami was wearing right now was proof enough that he wasn't used to enacting on his emotions, probably instinct, but most definitely not what labeled him as a human: emotions. Was that it? Was that why he was so withdrawn now, motionless and unfeeling like a statue?

So withdrawn into his thoughts concerning the bronze-skinned enigma that was Yami, Yugi failed to realize it when the car had stopped moving, blinking in confusion when the door opened politely. Immediately Yugi noticed the difference in the neighborhood, such as how _all _the stores were expensive, way beyond what he could afford, and how handsomely dressed people were. It made Yugi feel a little self-conscious at how they scrutinized him with disdain and disapproval, like was trespassing on grounds that his lowly feet weren't meant to tread upon. However, Yugi couldn't say the same for his rich companion, considering the fact that everyone looked upon Yami with obvious reverence, like he was some type of god. He certainly was, wasn't? The wealth, the way he carried himself, his confident swagger, and most definitely his natural attractiveness. Such qualities made Yugi ponder about Yami's full identity.

"Shall we?" Yami said softly, elegantly gesturing towards the entrance to what appeared to be a very costly restaurant. Yugi couldn't exactly distinguish the name of the place because it was in French.

Nervous about eating at such an upscale place and the fact it was with a sadistic murderer no-less, Yugi anxiously smiled at Yami who responded with a dark, unreadable smile, leading the way. Upon entering the luxurious restaurant, Yugi watched in slight curiosity as Yami was greeted by a dignified man dressed in immaculate tuxedo in a foreign tongue, surprised when the murderer responded fluently, apparently well-versed in the language.

While they talked, amethyst eyes scanned the interior of the restaurant in wonder, again feeling out of place at the high-quality decorations. Numerous paintings aligned each wall; tables were sectioned in perfect spots to accommodate every affair; musicians had their own section of the restaurant, their music responsible for the soothing atmosphere; and of course, there were private rooms for those who could afford it. Yugi would have felt much more at ease if they were at less classer place, but seeing as Yami finished speaking with the man, gesturing to follow, Yugi couldn't say anything. He could pray that Yami hadn't reserved a private place for them, knowing that a private room meant less people to call for help.

He should have expected that his prayer would go unheeded.

The man had led them to an exclusive room where the lighting was provided by scented candles and the only table was placed on an open balcony, giving a wonderful view of the moon's pale loveliness. Placed on the center of the table was a vase with delicate, blood-red roses, glistening silverware, a bottle of wine resting in a glass with ice, and porcelain plates. If Yugi didn't know any better, he would say this was a romantic date, judging from the enchanting atmosphere, but he wouldn't believe it. What kind of killer brought their victim to romantic dinner? Or maybe he was truly misjudging Yami…no. He was a serial killer in every since of the word. It would be blasphemous if he fell for this trickery.

"Are you not going to join me Yugi?"

Said teenager resisted the instinctive urge to flinch at hearing the husky voice, easily detecting the scolding that lay underneath the calm, his eyes coming to settle upon the sight that nearly had him panting on the spot. Yami had already taken his seat and had poured him some wine in a pristine glass, sipping eloquently at the rim while a handsome smirk donned his face, the moon's pale light doing everything to accentuate his handsomeness. It was only for that moment that Yugi forgotten completely that he was about to dine with a murder and took up his seat across his companion, unable to break the enchantment Yami's eyes cast on him. He could see nothing in those smoldering eyes except for a strange fascination that was directed towards him, hastily reminding him of his dangerous situation. Yet still, even if it was for a minute that felt like it was an eternity, Yugi couldn't help but marvel how easily it was to be hypnotized by those blood-red eyes.

He would have to be careful.

"Our waiter shall be with us in nothing short of a few minutes. If not there will be some problems." Yugi began to feel uncomfortable upon hearing the slightly concealed threat in Yami's comment, trying his best not to let it show on his face. "In the meantime, why don't you tell me about yourself? In return, I will reveal some things about myself." Yugi could literally see the genuine curiosity coexisting with that unnerving fascination in those penetrating eyes, encouraging him to spill all his secrets, _everything_. He wasn't eager to reveal more information about himself to a killer. But a gut-feeling told him that should he not do it, something bad will come out of it. So far his gut-feeling hadn't let him down yet.

"I-," he was interrupted by a young man dressed in uniform black and white walking towards them, a polite expression on his young face. Yugi could already tell he was a very charismatic person just from the way he carried himself. Had the circumstances been any different, he would have probably been taken the minute to know him. However, Yugi couldn't exactly say the same for Yami at all. If you possessed a talent for observation, you could tell that he was beyond angry at the interruption, but it was veiled by a perfect mask of indifference as he casually gazed at the approaching man, his thoughts completely unreadable. Hadn't it been for Yugi accidentally casting his eye over to where Yami's hand twitched towards an innocently discarded knife, there would be no proof of Yami's desire to murder.

"Good afternoon sirs," greeted the waiter, formally bowing. He possessed no awareness of Yami's eyes burning heatedly into the back of his skull. "I will be your waiter tonight and will happily attend to your every demand." He separately passed them menus, wearing a charming smile on his youthful face. "If you have anything on mind already at what you desire to eat, I will take your order now. But if you need time to think, I'll go fetch you some water."

"Yes, I would like to order now," Yami muttered in a quiet monotone, his keen eyes scanning the menu of its contents before coming to a decision, his eyes locked with the now nervous, teal eyes of the waiter. "I would like to order the _Raclette_ dish."

"Is there any type of way you would like it prepared?"

"No."

The waiter bowed courteously as he turned to Yugi, taking down the Yami's order on a notepad, awaiting Yugi's order. "As for you sir? Do you have anything in mind?"

Not even taking the time to actually ponder what he wanted or even attempt to understand what most of the dishes were for they were in a different language, Yugi ordered a dish called _Tartiflette_, just eager to have the waiter gone in hopes that should he leave early, it would be less likely that he would be killed. He couldn't help the urge to try and prevent a death from occurring because his conscious couldn't handle the weight of another death happening on his account. It would just increase the intensity of the guilt that was already pressuring his over-taxed mind. God he wished to have his life just to return to normal. To forget that people where dying on his account, to forget that his friends lives were in imminent danger, to forget everything.

The waiter was gone in the minute he took Yugi's order down, perhaps sensing something that unpleasant vibe of murderous intent radiating from Yami like it was his very own aura, a wise choice in Yugi's saddened eyes that found a nervous interest in his silverware. Before he had any chance to register any movements, Yami was caressing his face affectionately across the table, demanding his eyes to grace them with their confused yet very cautious presence. Yugi found it very bizarre to see such a sincere concern expressed on his handsome face, as if he sensed Yugi's sudden despair, which was probably the case. However, he didn't let the foreign expression distract him from the familiar insanity in crimson eyes, as if there was more that he was not getting.

"What troubles you so, Yugi?" The hypnotic voice almost lulled him into a false sense of security, which is until he pulled away from caressing finger tips slowly, so as not to offend him.

'_Your insatiable desire to kill everyone that vexes you…_'

"Why do you kill?" Again, Yugi reprimanded himself for not thinking about what he said.

Bemused, Yami let out a soft chuckle that barely grazed the instability that was insanity. "I thought we came to that conclusion my muse." His eyes became half-lidded in a sick enjoyment, his voice a dark whisper, "I kill for you; to please you."

Yugi had to literally had to hold back a flinch of disconcert as he spoke again, this time, much more quietly. "Yes I know, but do your parents know of this...of your murderous desires?"

Silence and a glazed look in the eye wasn't what Yugi expected as a response from Yami, but it didn't last long because he responded, hissing. "My parents are dead, Yugi."

"I-I'm sorry…," he amended; flustered by his mistake at touching what apparently was a tender subject for him.

"Sorry?" Yami echoed, amusement evident in his voice as his fingers laced together, leaning his chin on them as he stared at his muse, a vicious delight reflected on their crimson surfaces. "My dear Yugi, there is no need to apologize. After all…I was the one who killed them."

Yugi could have keeled over and vomited right about then.

"Do you want to know how I killed them?" Inquired Yami sadistically, some type of maniacal remembrance darkening his face.

'_Oh god no, please no…,_' Yugi protested mentally for he couldn't find the strength to voice it verbally, his insides churning very unpleasantly at the mere prospect of killing family, nonetheless one's own parents. It was almost unfathomable in Yugi's spinning mind.

"I remember it like it was yesterday…," he started his tale, only stopping when he caught sight of Yugi's paling face, getting to the point where he was almost sickly looking. "Yugi?"

"I…I need to go to the bathroom."

Before Yami could protest, Yugi had already dove into the luxurious bathroom that was stationed in their exclusive room, wasting no time in heading over to the flawless marble sink, his stomach seconds away from vomiting up everything ranging from breakfast to his own internal organs. It was only the soothing caress of his own hand rubbing his sickened tummy that stopped him, peering emptily back into such sorrowful amethyst reflected perfectly in the mirror. And it was with anguish that he realized that they were in fact his own eyes and face that bespoke of his despair. Tearing his eyes viciously from the sight of what he deemed to be a shell of his former self, Yugi twisted the golden knob of the faucet, hastily splashing water into his face to wash away his haunted expression.

The sickening fact that Yami killed his own parents and was unhesitant to tell the details of how he did so severely disturbed him, crushing the will to go back in there and face Yami again, to be in his murderous presence. But he knew that if he wanted to survive this knight unscathed, he would have to brave the horror of being with someone so unpredictable, subconsciously rubbing the hem of his shirt in remembrance of what occurred in the limo.

It would be forever etched into his memory to serve as a reminder of how unpredictable Yami was.

Feeling better, if only slightly, Yugi opened the door slowly, listening to it echo his attempt at being quiet, immediately settling his eyes onto his tormentor. Luckily enough, Yami was gazing aimlessly at the moon, his face obscured because of his turned body while he shifted the contents of a hot meal in front of him. The dish consisted of a delicious-looking, unique cheese, small potatoes, pickled onions, some sort of dried meat, tomato, mushrooms, and pears, prepared all in eloquent fashion. From what Yugi could glimpse, his own meal was waiting for him as well, its contents unknown because it looked strange. Normally, if he was with his friends, he would have fussed childishly about his meal, but not right now, when Yami just looked so…lonely. It really was horrible to just leave him so unexpectedly like that while wearing such a grimace on his face, but how was he to sit through Yami's gruesome story. How could Yugi be expected to understand him, a murderer no less? It was hopeless, and yet, Yugi couldn't forestall this emotion of guilt attacking his heart.

Well, you couldn't blame him right?

"Yami…?"

Almost immediately the other turned to face him with delight, although it didn't quite reach his eyes, like he knew something was wrong. "Have whatever ailment troubled you passed, Yugi?"

Guilt clenched Yugi's pained heart, forcing him to speak. "Yami I…I'm sorry."

Confusion was imminent in Yami's husky voice as he spoke carefully, suddenly distrusting. "For what, may I ask?"

'_God, I can't say it! Why can't I say it!?_'

"Yugi? What is it?"

'_Say it, I must say it…but he'll kill me…_'

"Yugi…," the teenager could hear the impatience as clearly as church bells on a Sunday morning.

'_I…_'

The pressure was beginning to build the longer this continued, his temple breaking out into a clear sheen of sweat.

"Yami…"

Crimson eyes narrowed in on him, questioning and dark, merciless with its intensity.

"Speak Yugi."

Everything became suffocating and it forced Yugi to speak, despite his fear. "I don't think I'll be able to understand you Yami. I just can't!" The teenager fell to his knees, basically hyperventilating as the blood roared deafeningly in his ears while his mind screamed in terror. Would Yami kill him now?

_Silence_…then the sound of shoes walking purposely towards him echoed in the air, almost making Yugi want to peak through his golden bangs at what he could only identify as his impending death. Yami was surely coming to rip away his existence now for failing to understand him, for failing his assigned role in this twisted game. But as he waited for a knife to glide across his neck in a swift, precise movement of expertise, Yugi could see black shoes stop right in front of him, making his breath come fast in dread, waiting for death to rob him of all that was precious to him. There would be no more Malik and his admirable talent for perception; no more of Jonouchi's rough support and Ryo's gentle words of encouragement. Especially, there would be no more Anzu or here gorgeous eyes of ocean-blue, nothing at all. But wouldn't she be following as well with him to the nothingness of death?

A single tear trailed solemnly down his milky cheek as Yugi let out a pained sob, wishing to be held by his mother's pacifying embrace.

"Why are you crying little one? It doesn't become of you."

Reining in back a gasp of shock, Yugi felt a strong finger lift his chin as Yami kneeled before him, for once those burning ruby eyes of his calmed into an alluring cold fire. At such a close proximity that had his heart racing dangerously in his chest, Yugi could see every detail of Yami's flawless, bronze-colored face to his resembling hairstyle. God…he was so handsome that it was unworldly. It took all of his will-power and self-control not to reach out and trace the perfections of his face, like one would do when admiring a gorgeous piece of art. It just hurt…to breathe in his presence, no to _exist_ in his presence. How could one who possessed the appearance of a living god be so sadistic and satanic? Was it true that his insides didn't reflect how he looked on the outside? Yugi could only wonder.

"I failed to understand you. Aren't you going to kill me?"

Chuckling darkly, Yami cupped Yugi's baby-soft cheek in the palm of his hand, relishing in its softness as he spoke in a low, partially seductive tone. "If I weren't so sure of your will to live, I would think you would be entertaining the idea of dying. Is that so, my muse?"

Yugi opened his mouth to respond but a commanding finger relaxed against his lips. "Such a question can be answered another time. I'm afraid we're running out of time for I have matters to attend to," he said, glancing quickly at a pocket watch attached to a gold chain before peering back at Yugi with glowing eyes. "Let us take our leave, but before we do so, I wish to offer you a proposal."

Amethyst eyes blinked unsurely, but Yugi nodded anyways, encouraging him to continue.

"I have decided that I want you to live with me, in my mansion. I will provide everything for you, even your smallest whim. Yugi," he whispered breathily, brushing a golden bang from wide amethyst eyes, "I want you to take away my loneliness."

Throat dry, eyes wide, Yugi blinked blankly at Yami, trying to understand if he had heard correctly, which he was sure of because his mind wan now in a terrible frenzy of panic. His instincts told him to instantly say no but rationality and logic pressured him to think clearly about such a decision. If he were to leave and go with Yami, how would he explain that to his friends, especially his grandfather who would not stop worrying about him, which wasn't beneficial to his old age? And yet, there was this fear that Yugi held of denying Yami's wishes because the man was very unpredictable and his reactions to things were terrifying. What was he to do?

"What would happen if I were to say no?" Yugi carefully asked, anxious, as if he was stepping on broken glass.

Crimson eyes flickered with a flash of violence and a tinge of cruelty, but it was becalmed by his faulty self-control, expressing himself through a twisted smile and speaking in a lethal whisper. "Should you not accept, than I'm afraid your grandfather will be dying sooner than he would expect."

'_No…_'

"You can't!" Yugi protested weakly, his expression that of abhorrence.

Yami chuckled in twisted amusement, "I can, and I shall if you say no. You'll have until you're done with school tomorrow. I will be waiting to pick you up at the school entrance. You may give me your answer then."

With that said, Yami got up from his kneeling position with his usual grace, rummaging in his pockets for money to pay for an untouched meal, giving a silent request for Yugi to follow as he walked out the door with purpose. It took a minute for Yugi's shocked brain to send signals to his legs to get them working properly and another minute for the blood to get circulating. Right now, his body was on autopilot as he followed Yami back to his limo, unable to stop thinking about the killer's so called "proposal". It felt more like blackmail in Yugi's heart but he dare not say it lest Yami assault him again, perhaps this time, it would be much worse.

Apparently, he wasn't given much of a choice because he knew the murderer knew that he would never do anything to endanger his grandpa, the only family member he had left. He was being manipulated into falling right into Yami's trap, like a cornered animal. Weren't it for self-preservation that was always at the forefront of his mind nowadays, Yugi probably would have lashed out at Yami, verbally of course because there was not a single chance in hell of overpowering a psychopath. That was suicide and not to mention very unintelligent.

All was quiet as the limo came to a stop to what felt like a very quick drive to Yugi, instantly coming to the idea that Yami had something to do by the impatient way he drummed his fingers on his knee, his eyes very eager, as if anticipating the occurrence of a delightful event. Curiously, Yugi's eyes darted towards the window where he caught sight of his home, noting that all the lights were shut off, meaning that his grandfather retired for the night. Why was Yami so eager to get rid of him so suddenly? What was he planning?

Yugi froze the moment he stepped out of the sleek car, realization hitting him harshly like a ton of bricks.

Yami was going to kill Anzu now.

"From your body language, I can see you figured out what I plan to do this night…"

Yugi dared not turn around, not trusting his ability to stop himself from breaking down in front of Yami and begging him to spare his childhood best friend's life. Not even his voice could be trusted, considering how hard it was to produce a sound.

"Keep in mind, my muse," he began, stopping to wrap his arm comfortingly around the trembling teenager's waist, his breath ghosting the other's quivering ear, "I do this all for you. Goodnight and I hope your dreams are pleasant, _my little one_." Yami hummed pleasantly as he placed a sinful kiss upon the milky expanse of Yugi's neck, leaving soon after, the sound of his ride driving off resounding eerily through the night.

The sound of broken sobs and silent tears tore through the night as a boy fell to his knees, crying because he knew all hope was lost.

-/--/--/--/-**_(Horror Warning)_**-/--/--/--/-

"Mom, dad, I'm home."

Anzu's brow creased in surprise at the lack of response she received from her parents as she removed her jacket, a bit perturbed as to why all the lights were out. Normally, her energetic mother would have greeted from the kitchen where she would be cooking and her dad, even though he would be tired, would greet her as well from the living room, where he would be reading book. It was extremely rare occurrence when they didn't welcome her and never were the lights out, which was a problem within itself. Something was disturbingly wrong here; her basic survival instincts were the first to know so, even her spine was subjected a shudder of uneasy and discomfort. And with unease and discomfort, fear was born, and the need to run.

"Mom…dad…are you home?" She tried once more, voice quivering, heart increasing its pace, her ocean-blue eyes darting everywhere at once as she walked down the now suffocating hallway, feeling like a trapped mouse. It felt like the once cheery hallways of transformed into deathly corridors that threatened to shrink the longer it feasted on her fear, making her slightly claustrophobic. And that's was enough reason for Anzu to burst into a sprint, unable to no longer take her brain's attempts of deceiving her with her own growing paranoia, soon ending up in her kitchen where not a single light was on, taking on a ominous feel. Fear was what encouraged Anzu to struggle to find the switch to cloak the kitchen in light, letting out a gasp of relief when she found it, hastily turning it own.

Weren't for her brain's momentary shutdown, Anzu would have screamed bloody murder at what was now scarred into her memory forever.

Everywhere she looked, on counters, on walls, everywhere, there was grotesque amount of fluorescent red blood splashed everywhere, like someone deliberately throw buckets onto every stainable surface. Signs of struggle, probably the victims of this slaughter, were shown by the way there were footprints dragged around on the floor, their efforts proving to be fruitlessly from how sudden the footprints grew sloppy. And then…there was the vile scent of death tainting the air heavily in its sickening aroma, causing her eyes to water as wafted it her nostrils, fresh and disgusting. They were here; the corpses…the victims still remained in this room, touching the beginning stages of decay.

About to turn around, Anzu eyes caught sight of something that filled her with dread, namely two figures that sat motionlessly at the blood-stained seats of her family table, wine glasses that were filled to the brim sitting untouched in front of them. Every instinct, every nerve in her body told Anzu to run away like any normal human concerned for their well-being, but it clashed with the human's weakness of curiosity and fear of the unknown, pushing her to step forth. There was not a single spot of white tile that she grown accustomed to showing through the lake of blood smothering her floor, making her sick every step she took for it summoned a wet squelching sound in response. Breath hitching, Anzu took a step towards one of the bowed figures and twisted the chair around quickly, gasping in full-blown horror as she took a ungraceful step back, almost losing her footing from the heavy amounts of blood staining the floor.

There sat her mother, hair disheveled and dyed in a vivid shade of gruesome red, eye sockets devoid of the eyeball, appearing to be crying blood in small rivulets. Her once beautiful face was painted scarlet as her mouth was open, slack, as if it was unhinged and broken, giving her the expression of a permanent grimace. Blood soaked her pink, frilly apron, her favorite one, in thick layers, pouring profusely from open wounds, each laceration varying in size as they crisscrossed at some point. Anzu could no longer take the sight of the mutilated body as fell to her knees, pouring her eyes out as her heart throbbed in agony, wishing vainly for this to be some realistic gruesome nightmare that karma for whomever she wronged in the past cursed her with. She didn't possess the will or the strength to identify the next body beside her lifeless mother, knowing that she couldn't bare the sight of her father, a kindhearted man that she loved dearly. But the question of who and why kept dancing around her closed eyelids as she continued her helpless crying, trying to think of a plan of action of what to next.

"What a tragedy this is my dear; to come home to this must be quite…traumatizing." A falsely pitying voice mocked, causing Anzu to look up from her tears, sapphire eyes widening at the sight before her.

Before her, dressed in satin black and as devilishly handsome as ever, was Yami, leaning comfortably at the doorframe of the kitchen, sipping delicately at a wine glass while a gauzed-covered hand toyed with a gold chain that disappeared into his pocket. His beautiful, forever-burning crimson eyes narrowed tauntingly on her, a malicious desire for murder haunting and darkening their sinful beauty. His sudden and disturbing appearance made Anzu scared beyond all reason, knowing from the depths of her heart that his presence could only mean one thing: her death. She wasn't oblivious to the scathing looks he speared her with every time she gazed at him, but his allure and that dangerous mystery shadowing him was so enchanting that she couldn't resist. Anzu, for the life of her, couldn't keep her blue eyes of him, no matter how much her instincts warned her not to. Now look at her, reaping the consequences of her mistake.

"Why are you here?" She asked despite somewhat knowing his reason, even when he pulled out from the depths of his pocket an elegant sliver dagger with intricate designs carved into the hilt and blade.

Yami finished his drink casually, placing the empty glass on the bloody counter, amusement in his eyes as he trailed the length of his deadly blade with both his finger and his gaze. "I've come to end your life, if it isn't so obvious."

Anzu paled miserably, the tears coming back, this time, with more force and zest.

"Not before we play a game of course," he added on with a sadistic laugh, making his way towards her unmoving form languidly, knowing she wouldn't dare run. "But before we play, would you like a drink?"

Anzu followed the direction off where his hand indicated, sighting a cup filled with red liquid in front of an empty chair. She let out a trembling "no" as a reply.

Something akin to laughter filled Yami's crimson eyes as he smiled sardonically, kneeling till he was eye level with her, making her breathe harder. "If that is what you wish, my dear, no matter how foolish it was. Wine helps stabilize the mind into a state of calm and rationality. It's a good relaxant when one is in a state of fear." His smile widened at her loss, continuing to speak, "Let's begin shall we?" He pulled out a golden pocket watch that had flawless Egyptian script carved delicately into its sides, the numbers being replaced by interesting symbols. "The object of this game is simple. Find the key that opens the front door to your house. You may only check one room once, which is the only rule of this game. I dearly recommend that you abide by this rule. Should you not…well I would hope it doesn't come to that. I simply abhor rule breakers." Yami rose to his face eagerly, eyes never leaving his watch, observing its hands move. "You have one minute. Begin…"

"What!? That isn't fair!" She protested as she stumbled back onto her feet, tasting her infamous stubbornness.

"_59…58…57…_," Yami counted softly, his eyes never leaving his beautiful watch.

Horrified knowing that her protest wouldn't bother him and she was just wasting time doing so, Anzu scrambled out of the kitchen, slipping a few times on the bloody floor, anxious to find the key that decided her fate. She chose the living room to be her first choice, coming to the conclusion of looking through the bigger rooms first, blue eyes darting for a key, hands carelessly tossing anything that came into hand. Books, vases, lamps, and flowers were tossed hazardously around as Anzu frantic search continued, hope dimming when the living room was practically destroyed. Nothing could be found for she checked everywhere.

"_40…39…38…37…"_

Tears trailed rapidly down her face as she sprinted out of the living room, climbing up the flight of stairs that led to the bedrooms, breathing harshly as she headed into her room first, going for the dresser. In a millisecond, each individual draw was wrapped out of their place as the sobbing girl shifted through them finding nothing, trembling and wailing like an animal in pain. Thinking calmly was beyond her capacity at the moment as she looked under her bed, again finding nothing, the hope she had taking a dramatic drop into nothingness. At this rate she really was going to die…

"_26…25…24…23…_"

Picking herself from off the ground, Anzu hopelessly entered the bathroom, devoid of any hope, knocking things to the ground in order to see anything resembling a key. Nothing was there. But then, it suddenly dawned on her that her parents kept a spare on their top dresser. With that piece of little information, Anzu felt her hope relive again, her heart beating vigorously with excitement as she busted into her parent's room, feeling a sense of violation upon doing so. Entering her parent's room without permission felt very wrong and uncomfortable to her, but the vivid image of her mother's eyeless face haunted her, reminding the poor girl they were dead. Stifling a sob of anguish, Anzu ran towards their dresser, hurriedly taking the key and speeding downstairs.

"_13…12…11…10..._"

Clumsily, Anzu fumbled with the key in terror, recklessly attempting to stuff the key into the lock, her life depending on her success. But the damn thing just wouldn't fit…like this wasn't the right key. With horror numbing her entire body as it dawned on her, Anzu looked dumbly at the bronze item between her fingers, a scream prepared to release itself from her throat. The key wasn't for the front door…it was for the back one, the very door located in the kitchen, where Yami was finishing his countdown.

"_7…6…5…4…_"

Anzu froze.

"_3…2…1…._"

Almost immediately casual footsteps began their descent down the hallway, echoing ominously as they proceeded to get closer insanely fast, making Anzu snap as he banged hopelessly on the door, screaming her lungs out until she was brought into a coughing fit. But never did her banging stop, not even when the footsteps came to a deathly stop, not even when she felt a dagger blade tickle the skin on the back of her legs, laughing at her with the silent threat of agony and pain. Her heart stilled when she felt her tormentor breathe against her ear, its warmth chocking her with the fact she would never fill warmth ever again.

"_Time's up, my dear…_"

A mind-numbing pain washed over her as the dagger sliced through both tendons on each of her legs in a precise, deft motion, her legs crumpling underneath her as they couldn't support her anymore. God it hurt, unlike anything she ever experienced before, the blood pouring rapidly from both wounds, quickly forming a macabre puddle of dark red. She whimpered pathetically as she tried to crawl away, a scream tearing from her throat when a boot stepped cruelly on her injury, bringing forth more pain than she cared to register. Yami…was torturing her, savoring and drawing out her death, acting out on his sick desires. Underneath all that godlike beauty, he was a monster on the inside.

"I cut your leg tendons for a reason. Can you tell me why?"

Anzu whimpered pathetically, struggling to escape.

"I'm afraid that wasn't answer." Yami removed his foot from that position and kneeled next to her, caressing her neck with false sympathy, grinning like the psychopath he was. "Want to try again?"

Another peal of agony left the tortured girls lips, shaking at Yami's dangerous contact.

"Poor girl."

Anzu screamed once again as Yami began to torturously dig the dagger into her shoulder blade, feeling sinew, flesh, and skin give way underneath his fingers, humming his delight. The deeper it sunk, the more her screams continued to increase in volume and duration, which in Yami's opinion was the best music he ever orchestrated from any of his victims. He could see so clearly now, her pain, her misery, her _suffering_, the very emotions that made him a happy man...but it still wasn't enough. Her blood that poured beautifully into his hands like spilled liquid wasn't enough. He needed something personal, something that could he give to his precious Yugi, a token of how much he meant to him. And with satanic smile, Yami removed his dagger viciously from torn flesh, causing more blood to pour as he turned her around, those eyes of her fluttering as her conscious grew dimmer. No…he wasn't finished with the girl yet, she wouldn't die until he was satisfied.

"You have something that I want my dear. May I have it?" He inquired dauntingly, positioning his blood-stained dagger over her heart, feeling its beat vibrate through the slickened metal. From her expression, Yami could tell she knew what he wanted and it gave him a sick pleasure knowing this.

"No…," Anzu protested weakly, blood beginning to well up in her mouth. Such a beautiful color it was…

"I will give _him_ your heart as a symbol of our growing relationship. Your heart is the key to _his _heart and I want it. _He_ will understand my feelings through this gesture," he explained, an unreasonable insanity present in his burning eyes, becoming somewhat demonic. "And now," he said softly, his grip tightening on the eager weapon, meeting her pleading eyes in a final lock, "this is the end."

"_Game over, Anzu Mazaki._"

Blood spurted, followed by Anzu's deafening screams as Yami quickly dug the dagger deep into her chest, professionally avoiding piercing her heart so it wouldn't be damaged, carefully proceeding to cut away all attachments attaching the heart to the body in a carving motion. And as soon as his knife sliced through the aorta her screams diminished permanently, her eyes still wide open in death. With a few more quick slices, his work was finished, sighing in satisfaction as he grasped the motionless organ within his palm and ripped it from her violated chest cavity, tearing apart small ventricles and veins that had clung desperately to it. With fascinated crimson eyes, the killer observed the bloody organ, checking it for flaws before stashing it away into a black treasure box littered with golden Egyptian script along its sides.

_Now it was time to present his gift._

-/--/--/--/--/**_(End of horror)_**--/--/--/--/--/-

For approximately 20 minutes Yami had been sitting upon Yugi's bed watching him sleep deeply, his breathing so soft and delicately that lulled Yami into rare state of ease and calm. Watching the moon illuminate his muse's angelic face was illustrate such a captivating image in front of him was the greatest gift anyone could give him, just this small image would do. He knew he shouldn't have lingered so long and left when he placed his gift and the small note attached to it, but he couldn't bypass this gift. Oh how he longed for his easel and brushes to paint this beautiful picture before him, but alas, he couldn't do so. And from the adorable way Yugi's nose scrunched up in distaste at the pungent, metallic smell of blood smothering coating his body, Yami knew it was time to leave. Besides, tomorrow was a new day, and he was eager for Yugi's answer to his offer, the correct one that is. So with that in mind, he got up and descended swiftly until he was eyelevel with the snoozing boy, for once in a very long time, a genuine smell adorned Yami's lips as he placed a soft kiss upon his muse's head.

"_Sweet dreams, my little one. May your dreams be of our approaching future."_

_

* * *

**A/N**: _Are you sick my friends who have read the horror scene? I apologize...but do you like it? Tell me...what you think.


	4. Sentiments of A Caged Bird

**_A/N:_** Well here we are with chapter 4 of Canvas. And yes, I'm sorry about how long it took me to get it out. I appreciate your patience with my late updates...a lot. I'm just a tad bit stressed and exhausted from the heaps of test and school work that had been dumped on me. But the good news is that there over for now and I have some time to write. However, it feels like there is some hidden school work peeking around the corner somewhere, waiting for a chance to strike. Look at that, I'm beginning to become paranoid. Anyway, I believe this chapter to be a rather interesting one. I only say that because I added some limeish content into this chapter and this just so happens to be the very first time I wrote material like that. I would like to know what you thought about it. And before I forget because I'm a complete air-head at times, I would like to mention this chapter was beta'd by **_Chronos Mephistopheles_**. She did a wonderful job, and for that, I commend her. Thanks for everything pal!

**_Chapter Warning:_** Blood, gore death, violence, minor language, and some limeish content. **_YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!_**

* * *

**_Sentiments of A Caged Bird_**

_Do you know why the caged bird sings…?_

Something felt horribly wrong the moment Yugi opened his amethyst eyes, a sudden shiver crawling up his spine, relieving him of any lingering sleepiness. The sun had barely touched its spot on the horizon, only beginning to administer its many colorful types of shading across the sky, as if unsure what color to decide upon. It was a terrifying feeling to experience when first waking up; making Yugi anxious as he peered around the room, subconsciously worrying the fabrics of his blue blanket, seeking to draw comfort from it. That foreign feeling he was growing accustomed to urged him to scent the air, confused but proceeding to do so because he was confident that wasn't the source of the problem; only to be unnervingly mistaken when it was.

Blood, so very tangible and harshly metallic, was fused in with the natural scents of his room, and from it thickness, Yugi was able to come to the sickening conclusion that it wasn't no small amount. Where did it come from? Already Yugi began to shake as he slid hesitantly out of bed, clear perspiration breaking out against his skin as he prayed that there wasn't anything dead in his room. How would he explain that to his grandpa? He shook his head to clear away the possible scenario his mind created for him, finally noticing a black treasure box sitting ominously on his work desk, knowing from the depths of his heart that it wasn't there before. It looked like it contained something evil from the way a golden eye carved expertly into its center was boring sinfully into him, coaxing him silently to give into the temptation of peering into what was inside. And from the way the reek stench of blood, death was now also distinguishable in the mix of scents, Yugi would say looking inside was a terrible idea.

'_Throw it away; don't look inside,_' whispered his brain warningly. Human curiosity began to convince him to take a peak, just a small one. But the way that box just oozed out the vile stench of death and how its eye awaited his actions with what seemed to be a mocking laughter made Yugi's hair stand on end. He took a step back, never taking his off the thing, almost expecting it to lunge at him and suck him up into whatever lay inside. Yugi just couldn't approach it, which was why when caught sight of a note attached to the top, the red letters beckoning him-no _ordering_ him to come over and read it. And so he did, his breathing already becoming labored.

_I give you my heart as a symbol of my growing feelings for you, my inspiration. Enjoy its sentimental value._

_Yami_

'_It can't be,_' Yugi thought petrified, his hand landing on the box's warm surface, trembling. He had to know exactly what this box contained or else he go insane, hand quivering as it descended down until he reached the small, golden grooves of where his fingers were supposed to be inserted to lift the lid. Panting heavily from the suffocating suspense and dread, Yugi flipped it open quickly, slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle his scream of horror as he stumbled backwards, knocking down a chair and falling in the process.

Inside the box lay the heart of a human, drifting in a pool of macabre, dark red blood, deflated from the lack of oxygen, collapsing into itself. Purplish veins and tattered arteries littered it's disgusting, red surface, other remnants of its former attachments drifted in a puddle of blood the heart created, looking utterly repulsive. It was nothing more than a lump of dead tissue and muscle floating and saturated in its fluids. The sole creator of the disgusting smell that nauseated and terrified Yugi beyond comprehension. It was foolish of him to even consider that Yami had any shred of humanity left somewhere into that complicated madness of his because no human would have the gall and detachment needed in order to rip out someone's heart. Only a deranged psychopath would present such a gruesome thing as gift, no matter how symbolic it was.

Sensing his body's reaction to the nauseating sight, Yugi sprinted out of his room into the bathroom next door, vomiting up bile and other acidic things, coughing over the toilet as he struggled to his feet, weak-kneed. It wouldn't leave; the sickening image of that deflated mess in that accursed box refused to leave him. It cemented itself for the rest of his existence into his memory for references that would no doubt drive him insane. God, help him please! He just couldn't take it anymore! The gravity of all that has transpired was threatening to consume his weakened mentality, begging him to finally succumb to madness and declare Yami the victor of this game. There would be no more letters, no more manipulation, no more madness, just death. Yugi was just so exhausted from it all, from Yami…his personal Satan. Even if he were to die, Yugi knew that Yami would find away to torment him, even through death, the notion enough to bring a fresh load of crystal tears to his dulling amethyst eyes.

He was so very tired…so, so tired…

Numb and practically devoid of any thoughts except one, Yugi slipped quietly back into his room as he donned on a purple robe over his pajamas while simultaneously slipping on some blue slippers and grabbing the box, shutting it with a wince. Very quietly so as not to disturb his grandpa's slumber, Yugi crept down the stairs, grateful that they didn't creak as he headed to the backyard, grabbing a shovel. The least he could do was bury the person's heart instead of disrespectfully tossing it in the garbage.

Once he was outside, taking a moment to survey for any curious onlookers and testing the dawn wind's strength, Yugi set to work with a grunt, creating the roots for a small burial site. It didn't take long till the hole was descent size, hurriedly placing the box into the soil before covering it up, feeling as he was the one who committed a crime. It was a very ridiculous feeling to be experiencing at the moment but Yugi couldn't help but envision the crimson liquid staining his hands, making him release a short-lived sob as he huddled into himself, leaning against the shovel for support. He blamed himself for the deaths of innocent people, mainly Anzu, the very person he failed to save. The mere mention of her name wracked his body with bitter sobs, numb to the wind whipping through his resplendent hair, tousling its uniqueness.

"_Why are you crying little one? It doesn't become of you._"

'_No!_' Yugi exclaimed mentally, remembering Yami's husky words, his penetrating gaze, his sinful caress…

"_You are my inspiration, the reason why I kill…the reason why my life has meaning now._"

He whimpered in distress, choking back a sob of remorse, '_Stop it…_,'

"_I'm infatuated with you._"

'_Enough…I can't…please…,_' the teenager begged, wandering why his mind tormented him so mercilessly with recent memories.

"_Yugi…_"

'_No…more…just go away._' He curled into himself, holding his knees, feeling a crushing sense of hopelessness eat at his insides.

"_I want you to take away my loneliness._"

"Enough!" Yugi cried loudly, standing shakily as he shook visibly with rage and desperation, weary from his unexplained mental trauma, wishing strongly to be in solitude, anywhere where Yami's voice would cease to exist, even if that was death.

"Yugi? What are you doing out here at this ungodly hour? It's nearly 4:00."

Startled by the voice that rung tiredly in his ears, Yugi spun around sharply, confused at the sight of his elderly grandfather standing at the doorway in baby-blue pajamas, staring strongly at him with such intense concern, so much that it shook his heart to its very foundations. His grandfather loved him so much didn't he? To think that he would repay the man by leaving him for a psychopathic murderer, tears once again resurrecting to sting the back of his eyes, but he held them back to not further worry his grandpa. He had done enough crying, his puffy red eyes enough evidence of his insistent tears. He sniffled as he walked towards his grandpa who laid a comforting hand upon his shoulder, violent eyes asking what words did not, not that they needed to.

"Come on Yugi; let's talk over a warm cup of tea. Than you can tell me what's troubling you, deal?"

Giving a half-hearted smile in response, Yugi let himself be guided to the kitchen table where he awaited a fresh cup of tea, listening to his grandpa fill the kettle with water to boil. That homebrewed tea of his was always enough to soothe away his ordinary problems, but it wouldn't do now for this was no ordinary problem. Oh how Yugi wished for the normalcy to return to his life, when he could honestly sleep at night without the fear that a killer entered his room on whim, when he wasn't tormented or constantly worrying about the lives of his precious people. The whistling of the tea kettle and the soft curse spilling from his grandpa's lips served to only remind Yugi that normalcy would never return to him, making him bite his lips in order to stifle the sob. No…no more crying…

"Here you go Yugi, some nice homebrewed green tea. Lighten up my boy," he chuckled, the creases formed from his old age kneading together, laughing with him. He placed the tea on a small silver platter in front of Yugi who shown his gratitude through his eyes, turning on the television as he poured his own cup of tea. Unfortunately, the news was the selected channel, yet Yugi wasn't paying much attention to it because the tea was washing away his depression for the moment. That is until…

"_Three bodies were found dead in the Mazaki household…_"

Yugi went rigid, turning so slow that it felt like time was in slow motion, eyeing the news woman who had paled at the horrible news she was reporting, the cup in his hand trembling and spilling tea at the sides.

"_Investigators_ _are doing everything in their power to trace the killer but it's proving to be much harder than expected. It's as if the killer hadn't ever stepped into the house, leaving no clues at all._" The woman struggled to her composure as she released more of the horrific information, make-up messing up as she just couldn't hold back the tears. "_The victim's bodies were mutilated brutally, each suffering from slightly different wounds. However, the body that is most horrific is that of Anzu Mazaki. Her heart was…literally ripped from her chest. Oh gods save us please! Will this murderer never be caught!? Will Domino City ever be able to rest?_"

A tea cup went crashing to the floor with deafening clarity as a boy screamed his lungs out, crying hysterically as a sympathetic-if not disturbed-grandfather held him close, trying to pacify the heart-wrenching sobs that tore at his heartstrings.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/-

An elegant brush simply refused to touch the white blankness of the canvas, fingers clenched irritable around its shaft as its tip dripped with a dash of dark red, crimson eyes glaring holes of enervation into his worst enemy: the canvas which mocked him. Being unable to find sleep after his trip from his muse's house, Yami had attempted to paint the mirror image of the perfect picture his muse gave to him, which was of an angel sleeping in a peaceful slumber, Yugi playing the part of the angel. Even now, his mutinous fingers rebelled strongly against the idea of using his sable-hair paint brush to create the picture still fresh in his mind, making his blood boil hotly.

How was it that still he was unable to mare this disgustingly blank canvas with his art? How was that possible when he had a form of inspiration to draw from? It didn't make any form of sense in Yami's frustrated mind as he got up from his seat, pivoted around with a swish of his red robe and left that hated room, listening with rage as the canvas's degrading voice assaulted his mind with challenging insults. No. He must not, under any circumstances, fall for that hated canvas taunts; that was beneath him. But now, since he was unable to create art once more, he needed something to pacify him or he might fall prey to his impulsive desires.

Almost immediately, the urge to kill overwhelmed him, which is until he smothered it with rationality and logic. He had just killed that annoying wench Anzu. It would be better if he spaced out the time between his killings, already knowing that the investigators and cops had discovered the Mazaki family bodies. He had personally made sure of that by painting a sickening trail of blood that led to the neighbor's doorstep. Yami could only imagine with an expression of gratification the hysteria he caused, but even that wasn't enough to fill this void in his heart. He was missing the exhilarating feel of having a reason to live. He missed Yugi who was the sole reason for his madness, the one who gave him a meaning to his once meaningless existence. Just the thought of the innocent boy made his blood burn with sinful hellfire, causing him to stop dramatically as soon as he entered his private chambers. Such a fire had never before burned through his body, and what pleasurable fire it was, this scorching heat that threatened playfully to engulf him, teasing him with dark wishes.

_Amethyst eyes, as brilliant as refined jewels, stared at him with an almost sensual allure…tempting him…desiring him…_

Gritting his teeth an almost instant arousal, Yami attempted to soothe his overreacting imagination with a glass of his favored wine, feeling the liquid slid down his throat, leaving that pleasant scorching trail and rich flavor. But still, those soulful amethysts wouldn't leave his mind, his body reacting in ways that haven't in such a long time, making him hiss in painful need as he relied on the dark walls of his grand room for support. He knew his mind was merely reflecting what he desired, and he was neither afraid nor ashamed to admit that he wanted his muse more than just a source of inspiration. Such an admission was established a long time ago.

_Those lips…those sinfully delectable lips as soft as rose petals whispered to him sweetly…against his neck with a ghostly caress…stating their every desire…_

"_Damn it_," Yami snarled viciously, beginning to perspire slightly as he felt blood rush into his loins, giving him a rather painful erection, throbbing with an inhumane need. It took all his self-control not to slip his hand into his trousers and relieve himself like he ached to do, to relieve this sudden desire to have Yugi underneath him, begging and calling his name on those teasing lips over and over again. He could imagine it vividly; Yugi lying amongst the satin-black sheets of his bed; those beautiful amethyst eyes glazed over with a thick layer of lust, completely and utterly beautiful in his nakedness; his moon-illuminated skin alight with a pale glow, awaiting him. Yes! What a beautiful sight that would be, the fantasy enough to snap a cord in his brain, immediately slipping his hand into his trousers to wrap around pulsing, heated flesh, crimson eyes half-lidded with an immense amount of lust and desire…

_Yugi's head snapped back as he bit possessively onto the milky column that was his muse's neck, claiming him-marking him as his own… _

Panting harshly in his pleasure, golden bangs drooping between his glazed over eyes, Yami increased the speed of his hand working desperately at his member, releasing quiet groans as his fantasy grew more intense, more insane. He could almost imagine transparent fingers ghosting his bronze skin, setting his now sensitive nerves aflame with a fluttering pleasure, his head reeling back from the euphoric sensation, feeling his own pre-cum coat his fingers eagerly with its substance. Never had Yami felt so good, even when he had been with others for it was never this pleasurable. Just the thought of his little one was enough to bring him into this high of ecstasy, letting out a husky groan from his panting lips, feeling that intense pressure coiling almost unbearably in his lower stomach. Faster this pace needed to go to satisfy him, again envisioning Yugi with high-quality clarity, his ghostly touch never leaving him.

_He was intoxicated by the taste of creamy skin tantalizing his tongue, capturing those mouth-watering lips for his own in a passionate lock, that silky, shy tongue brushing against his oh so sweetly…slowly…_

Breathing labored, moans of pleasure frequently tearing from his throat, Yami could fill that coil unwinding as his movements became desperate, uncontrolled, almost animalistic in movement. It was maddening, these thoughts, these unworldly sensations, this fantasy…everything, the pressure threatening to release in a burst of blinding white. Yugi, his muse, his little one, he couldn't get enough and yet hungered for so much more. He wanted everything that the younger could offer, his blood, body, soul, and heart, anything that was for the taking. But something was missing…Yami desired more.

_Small arms enclosed affectionately around a strong neck, planting a searing kiss underneath a keen ear, whispering so softly that it was almost inaudible…_

"_I love you, Yami Atemu."_

Burning crimson orbs snapped open sharply as Yami felt his climax hit hard in reaction to his fantasy, voicing out a long, guttural moan of intense pleasure, his body going numb at the intensity of his orgasm as he rode out the rest of it with a few jaunty hand motions and jerky thrusts. The hellfire burning throughout his now sizzling blood erode into nothing, satisfied at the moment as he pulled his stained hand from his soiled pants. Those words…were never said to him before. But that wasn't what brought him into such orgasm. No, it was the heavy layer of sincere affection coating those words derived from the emotion of love. And very slowly without any unexplained reason, Yami laughed, a rich sound that rumbled in his throat as it increased in volume, bordering on the fine line to becoming insane, crimson eyes glowing luminously while he grinned psychopathically.

It would seem he needed Yugi much more than he originally thought.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/-

_Numb, suffering, miserable._

They were the perfect words to describe the emotions coursing through Yugi's body as he sat disorientated in his seat in the classroom, vaguely aware of whatever was transpiring around him, the teacher's droning voice nothing but a dull hum in his ears. Once shining amethyst eyes were now glazed over with a thin film of grief and sorrow, his heart's beating conducting an agonizing tune that could only reflect a mere portion of the turmoil brewing in his soul. It wouldn't leave, that accursed news-reporter's voice revealing dreadful news, repeating over and over again about what to his dear friend. He could remember the events following his sudden hysterical breakdown; how he retreated into his room without a word and receded into the depths of his mind, listening to the low, accusing voice of his conscious berate him with words of scorn and disgust, placing the blame of Anzu's death on his small, quivering shoulders. And it didn't take long for Yugi to start believing that it was his fault.

Yes…it was his fault wasn't it? Yugi bit back a sob, knowing it would attract the attention of his classmates and Malik, whom he shared his class with this period. He didn't need to cause more reason for Malik to feel more concern, especially knowing that the other was going through what he was experiencing, perhaps not as intense. Why should he? He wasn't the one responsible for her death, so it wasn't required that he felt this burning guilt. With a sudden flash of heart-wrenching fear, Yugi wondered how Malik would react to knowing that Anzu died because of him, his eyes fixating on the Egyptian teen writing half-heartedly in his book, a terrible sadness on his face as he struggled to concentrate. How would the others feel? Would they _fear_ him knowing that being in contact with him could lead to their untimely deaths? Would they abandon him, forcing Yugi to rely on himself for support?

Without his knowing, Yugi felt a tear slip down his pale check, clenching his desk till all the blood left his fingers to stifle the sudden sickening feel churning his stomach painfully at the thought of his friends abandoning him. Yugi wouldn't be able to handle it, knowing that would officially mean he would be by himself to confront a murderous psychopath.

Sighing in true despair, Yugi's eyes strayed towards the window, looking through the clear surface to gaze absentmindedly at the school grounds, his expression conflicted from all the negative emotions he was feeling. It was only when a jet-black, convertible sports car with an almost futuristic design pulled up at the entrance smoothly, the top down, which allowed Yugi to see the person piloting it, did his eyes light up with emotions that wasn't associated with negative ones, going completely rigid with tension and fear.

Dressed in a sexy black and red blazer, black trousers, and a of pair black and red leather boots, was Yami, expression nonchalant and indifferent while black shades shielded his magnificent crimson eyes, leaning back against his sleek black car, apparently waiting for someone. His mere presence brought Yugi to the point of hyperventilating, breaking out into a cold sweat when that tri-colored head tilted up towards his classroom, tipping up his shades so their eyes could meet, smoldering crimson locking with iridescent amethyst. And slowly, Yami smiled wickedly, mouthing something that had Yugi's blood freeze in his veins.

"_I'm waiting, little one…_"

Frantic but still surprisingly retaining his outward composure, Yugi tore his eyes from burning crimson and glimpsed nervously at the clock, breathing hard. _45 seconds_ until the bell rung, signaling the end of the day, making Yugi eyes wander back to the his Egyptian friend. No doubt did the others want to talk about Anzu's unfortunate death, mainly to console him because he was closest to her. But he couldn't talk to them, not if he wanted Yami to come storming into the building looking for him an impatient rage, no doubt to be hidden by his flawless façade of calm. As soon as that bell rung, Yugi would have no choice but to sprint out of the classroom, ignoring the alarmed calls of his name that was sure to spill from Malik's lips, and confront Yami…with the decision he was supposed to have made.

Yugi's heart tightened in his chest unbearably, eyes still on that clock.

_25 seconds…_

During his trip to school, Yugi came to the painful decision of leaving his grandpa in favor of living with Yami, the prospect succeeded in bringing him a consuming sense of dread. It was like walking into the lion's den with nothing but your bare hands for protection against a sadistic lion. He would have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, caged there until his life was forfeit…just like a bird with clipped wings, unable to fly and behind the bars of a cage. From what Yami told him, he would be lavished with anything he desired which would probably be an ordinary person's dream. Yugi just wouldn't get? Have? his life back, but even he knew that was a far off dream.

"Alright class, that concludes the lesson. Is there any questions before you live?" The teacher asked, surveying his students who sat impatiently in their seats, eager to leave.

He was answered with an overwhelming silence.

"You may leave."

Yugi was among the first of the students to arise from their seats, slinging his backpack across his back while simultaneously glancing towards the window, meeting impatient crimson eyes in a quick yet silent lock before leaving. Adrenaline and anxiety made him nimble as he maneuvered through the bodies in the classroom, vaguely aware of a caramel-colored hand lunging for him while a surprised voice shouted his name, only grazing him as he practically flew out the door. The fear that was making him anxious blinded him slightly, the sole reason to as why he nearly bumped into Ryo, to intent on going downstairs to answer the British boy's alarmed question. He needed to get away from here, before his friend's saw Yami and vice versa. Somewhere in his heart he knew that Yami wouldn't be so welcoming to his other friends seeing as he brutally murdered Anzu, like the sadistic monster he was. No more of his friends would die at his expanse, not if he could help it.

Panting and exhausted from his run downstairs, Yugi stopped as he exited the building, immediately feeling a pang of discomfort when he realized all eyes were on him, darting back ever so often to the school's mysterious visitor. Swallowing thickly, Yugi quickly made his way to Yami who awaited him, an ominous air around him as those shades once again blocked those intense eyes, but he could still feel their calculating gaze through their tinted frames. But the curious whispers flowing around him, starting the foundations of rumors that were sure to only to make his life so much more difficult, urged him to walk faster. He didn't need this, those jealous eyes, those bitter words, just the plan distaste they were exuding.

_Make it stop…_

"Yugi…"

Yugi felt himself flinch subtly as Yami smiled at him, something sinister and not completely right behind it, something dangerous. Even so, Yugi felt his tongue respond, low and hesitant, unsure. "Hello Yami."

The other chuckled darkly as he slid gracefully into the driver's seat, gesturing for Yugi to take the seat next to him. Weren't for his manners and fear of the unstable man, Yugi would have ran as far as he could possibly can, never stopping to look back. And as if reading his thoughts, Yami fixed him with a warning look, watching with a satisfied expression as the younger sat, cautious. "You're so tense Yugi. Relax."

Even though it was Yami's wish to relax, Yugi felt himself tense further when the car roared alive and pulled away from the school sharply, his heart beating 100 miles a minute. God he could only hope that the killer's driving skills didn't reflect the madness he housed, amethyst eyes flickering wildly around, distrusting of being in the same vehicle with a killer.

"Have you come to a decision Yugi?" Crimson eyes never left the road when he asked the question, but still, Yugi felt as if they were piercing him anyway.

"Y-Yes."

Lips pulled into a unnerving smile while burning orbs narrowed in expectance, fingers thrumming the black wheel almost triumphantly, like he knew the answer already, which he probably did. "Well?"

Yugi inhaled breathily, heart beginning to suffocate as sorrow enclosed it within its grasp, holding back the tears that stung his beautiful eyes. "I-I choose to…live with you."

The car stopped as they hit a red light, giving Yami the chance to gaze at Yugi with an insane delight lighting red depths. "Wise choice, my little muse," he looked at the road, humming in contentment. "Our future starts now, Yugi."

'_But I don't want to share a future with you…_'

A very uncomfortable silence drifted between the two as the ride continued; crimson eyes unreadable as they concentrated on the road while anxious amethyst's flickered around, not recognizing the part of town where they were cruising through. It reminded him of the richer portion of town from last night, only this time there were plenty of stores, displaying items that could easily devour a load of money and it still wouldn't be enough to fulfill the requirements for acquiring it. By all means, Yugi wished that Yami could turn the car around, flinching visibly when the killer veered right sharply, beginning to decrease in speed as they approached a huge structure, a university or campus from the looks of things. Without fail, the teen felt dread build up in his stomach and proceeded to claw at its fleshy walls, making him slightly sick. He couldn't fight this horrible feeling that screamed warnings in his ear, getting worse and more intense when Yami parked the car with inhumane grace, a troubling smile taunt on those devilish lips of his as he looked directly at Yugi, speaking in his husky tone.

"This is the University of the Arts, Yugi. It's a very prodigious school for talented people such as you. If you are to live me Yugi, you only deserve the best, so I already I filled out your enrollment papers. Come." Yami commanded easily as he stepped out of the car, looking perfectly in place with all the sophisticated people going about their business, not paying them any attention as if they were used to seeing people like Yami.

Hiding his reluctance under a calm façade, Yugi followed Yami without a word; his eyes widening as he fully began to appreciate the magnificence of the building, feeling immediately out of place in its red enclosing brick walls. He couldn't give the exact measurements of how tall the building actually stood, but if he was to take a guess Yugi would say it stood to be roughly 20 feet, and that was just measuring the length. The intertwining pathways that they were walking on was made of fine cobblestone while exotic and foreign foliage littered the humongous grounds, but never touching the red walls as if they were sacred. Inside one of the countless windows decorating the high-maintenance building, Yugi could see what appeared to be a class filled with students wielding a variety of instruments, precise and skilled as if they had mastered their instrument; their music that was created coming to together in perfect harmony. Whatever hope that survived in his heart of surviving in such a place disappeared the moment Yugi saw how they used their talents with ease, like prodigy's developing whatever skill they had yet to refine.

How could Yami not see that he possessed not a shred of talent?

He resisted the urge to release his emotions in a loud sigh as they entered to be what seemed like a grand hall due to its high-quality décor, looking to be straight ripped out of an art museum. It made him feel small and he was easily discomforted, wishing for Yami to hurry to their unknown destination. And much to his relief, it didn't take long until they exited out the monstrosity of a hallway and came to a door in a private section of the school, a quieter one. About to raise question as to why they stopped, Yugi opened his mouth only to be given a warning glare with those piercing eyes.

"Wait here. I'm going to meet with the Director of the school."

Before he could respond, Yami had walked into the room with definite click of the lock, leaving Yugi in solitude in a desolate corridor, the quietness gradually attacking his nerves. Why was it so quiet? Shivering, amethyst eyes strayed around until it settled on a gilded water fountain that wasn't too far away. It tempted him with a drink, the idea of water calming him. Without a second thought and assured that Yami wouldn't mind this short endeavor, Yugi hurried to the fountain and took a long drink, admiring the pure taste.

"Enjoying the water, kid?"

Yugi froze, not daring to look up and see the source off the rather crude voice.

"Do they not have water where you come from?"

Yelping in surprise and fear, Yugi felt hands grab into his blue jacket effortlessly and was heaved brutally into the wall, his head, unfortunately, connecting sharply with brick so hard that his vision suffered, scared amethyst disorientated as they tried to focus on his assaulter, or perhaps assaulters from the way he was seeing double. Weren't it for that ornery smile marring their decent faces, Yugi wouldn't have taken the three boys to be violent people, their costly clothes giving them the impression that they were to sophisticated for such brutality? And they weren't all that tall either, but it didn't matter because he couldn't fight back even if he wanted to.

"Look at him; he's like a little kid. I wonder if he squeals."

The one who was holding him, obviously the leader, sneered viciously at him while the others chuckled quietly, amused by his fear, and the pleading looks he were given them. Unfazed, the leader ground him further into the walls, until he gasped in pain, feeling the rough material dig through his clothes and teasing his skin. Yugi couldn't believe this was happening. What did he possibly do to upset these people to the point of violence? Tears began to form at the corner of his eyes, was he wishing for a savior? Yes, he wanted a knight armed in shining white armor, riding upon a magnificent steed while brandishing a mighty sword of steel, ready to fight for him and to chase away the painful memories that were beginning to resurface. Where was his knight?

_Ambient crimson eyes…a husky, rich baritone voice…a monster in human skin… _

Inwardly, Yugi smiled bitterly as the image of his tormentor filled his mind while the bully entertained his audience by choking him, aiming to crush his windpipe with brutish hands, spots of white flickering dangerously in his vision, warning him of his upcoming suffocation. To think, when he envisioned his knight, Yami came up instead, as if mocking him at the trivial dream he long ago buried when he used to be abused by bullies in his school. But maybe Yami was his knight, a knight dressed in hellish black armor. It was ironic how the killer suited the role so well…his knight...his advocate in black armor.

"I hate filth like you," hissed the older teen into his ear, tightening his grip until Yugi could barely breathe, his lungs desperately trying to filter in air. "Poor people don't deserve education like this. Get the fuck out of my school."

"Release him."

As soon as that familiar voice spoke, frigid and lacking any detectable emotion, Yugi felt himself fall to the ground uncomfortable, gasping and inhaling sweet air as he massaged his throat, knowing there would be some type of discoloration to prove that he was assaulted. From what he was hearing, the sound of boots echoing ominously as they made movement to his direction, Yugi could say the bullies were terrified from the way they quivered like the cowards they really were. He half-expected them to begging them for forgiveness because obviously, Yami was clearly a very dangerous person to them. Instead, they broke down into incoherent babbling as they tried to justify their actions and explain, but it was pretty self-explanatory. And seeing as Yami had yet to respond, Yugi could tell forgiveness would not be given.

A murderer doesn't forgive.

"Mr. Atemu, we-"

"Silence or else I'll rip out your tongue and feed it to the dogs," he spoke lowly, tittering on the edge of cruelty and disgust. "Be gone from my sight and pray we don't ever repeat this encounter."

Their retreat was immediate and desperate as they collided with each other a couple times to escape the murderous intent exuding from Yami in smothering waves, making no effort to stifle their loud getaway. Before Yugi's stressed mind could even register what was happening, he felt strong, comforting arms wrap protectively around him, shielding him from any more dangers and from the cruelty off the world. At that moment, the full weight of what just transpired moments ago hit Yugi with destructive force, bringing crystal tears to his eyes as his mind struggled to comprehend he almost died. That is if Yami hadn't come to his aid, like a knight protecting his charge. For that moment, he let himself forget that the man currently holding him was an insane serial killer and listened somberly to the calm heartbeat beating in Yami's strong chest, a lulling sound that served to remind him he wasn't a complete monster. In Yami's arms, reality could be forgotten in favor of a purposefully ignorant bliss, just for this moment in time.

"Hush now, my little one," Yami spoke in a soothing voice, deep and sincere, "I promise that harm shall never befall you again. And any violators will be dealt with accordingly." Nimble fingers tilted a tear-stained face gently, glistening amethyst meeting searing crimson in a perpetual lock of promise. In those maddened eyes of blood-red, Yugi could see the poison of revenge and the burning hatred creating a malevolent mixture of something unspeakable, the dread he was well acquainted with returning with a vengeance from its temporary absence. He could see it all; the desire to murder and bring suffering upon those who wronged him just now, the very qualities that made Yami an unforgiving vigilante. His knight was gone and the monster was back, not leaving anytime soon.

"I vow to make them suffer. They'll be wishing for death when I'm through with them."

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/-

After that unfortunate accident, Yugi was disappointed to say that he had remained in the school at the suggestion of the director he met, meaning that he was left alone to fend for himself. Yami promised, with an unusual mirth flickering in those burning eyes of his, that he would come back to pick up, leaving with the excuse of having to attend to something important. Yugi tried through all his classes not to think about what Yami could've meant by that, and it worked for some time though seeing as the classes weren't exactly boring, but very challenging. His mind could barely keep up with the speed of the professor's explanations as he discussed about varying subjects, all of them related to music in some way because he absolutely refused to take any art classes, much to Yami's disappoint. For the life of him, Yugi couldn't create anything minimal artistic so he had opted to side with the music department, his instrument that he choose to specialize in was the piano, the instrument that produced such beautiful music. Apparently, much to Yugi's dismay, if he wanted to play the instrument, he would have to learn everything about it ranging from its history to how it's inner and outer mechanisms worked.

It was simply mind-blowing.

Trying his best to at least appear interested in his professors complicated explanation of where the piano originated from, Yugi sighed inaudibly in his boredom, his amethyst eyes surveying the auditorium-like room and its occupants wearily. Every room in the university was spacious like this one, built to accommodate instruments and sculptures of varying sizes. The space was quite unnerving to him seeing as he was more used to being in a room with lesser proportions and comfort. Yet, as he sat there, pen in hand, watching the dedicated young scholars of this university participating and listening raptly to the professor, Yugi couldn't be help wonder if he would ever see the average halls of his school, where his friends were. That is, if he even still had friends after he ran away like that. He could only hope that none of them saw Yami because that would only bring difficult questions to the surface. Yugi wasn't ready to combat that and he wasn't even sure if he would ever be. If only he had more-

"Everyone come quickly! Something terrible just happened…oh dear gods!"

Jolted from his thoughts rather suddenly, Yugi looked up from his desk to see his classmates racing out the door, followed by the professor trying to calm the mad rush, ; his wheezy voice quivering with the strain. Not wanting to be left out, or better yet alone, Yugi grabbed his things and ran after them, maneuvering through the crowd of bodies that were migrating towards what the school called the Concert Hall. Once he got there, Yugi's eyes filled amazement and an awed appreciation. If he had thought the auditorium-like classes were big, this place certainly took the cake.

Rows upon rows of chairs swept through the room, utterly uncountable, perhaps able to fit the whole population of the school in here, which was no laughable amount. Chandeliers made of gold, glass, and bronze decorated the sleek marble-like ceiling fashionably, the pristine walls glowing almost from the dim light hitting it. But the stage was truly the marvelous part for it compared to the stages seen only in expensive opera houses, its curtains dyed a blood-red color and embroidered with gold linen. The place was truly magnificent, yet Yugi failed to see what the people around him where panicking about, his height giving him a slight disadvantage because he couldn't outmatch everyone else's.

"Someone help Haruo! Quickly please!"

"How do we get him down!?"

"Someone fetch a ladder! Don't just stand there like a bunch of fish out of water! Help the poor boy!"

Yugi could hear it, the fear vibrating the bodies around him, the almost tangible horror, the weight of hopelessness, it made him sicken as he finally managed to pull through the mass of people, his face going disturbingly blank once he got to the front, emotionless almost. That boy Haruo, writhing, gasping, crying from his suffering was suspended high into the air by a noose wrapped inflexibly at his neck, the coarse rope creating hot friction that burned severely at his neck, scorching the skin of his throat each time he moved until his very life essence began to pour from the injury. His hands and legs were bound by a thick layer of tape, making it impossible for him to even free himself or to try, prolonging his suffering for each futile struggle he made, the tighter the rope got, critically pressuring the windpipe until it would inevitable collapse on itself. This was the very one who targeted him because he was less fortunate than wealthier people, because he was smaller than normal, because he simply _could_ and was a spineless coward. Yugi found it to be very ironic that his former tormentor was about to be killed by the same method he planned to use on him: suffocation. But even if Haruo had tormented him earlier, he didn't deserve to die. Not like this anyway, no one did. It was very…brutal how it was executed.

'_Yami why…why go to such lengths? He didn't deserve this…no one does…'_

Sullen, pain-stricken, amethyst orbs continued to look upon another victim that fell prey to Yami's insanity, wanting to help but his body refused to move, unable to summon the will. But the gasps and sounds of struggle continued to proceed, growing fainter and further in between intervals, causing the ill teenager to fall to his knees, shielding his ears with his hands to block out the horrible sounds, people running around him to try and help. It was his fault wasn't it? If he had stood in the spot Yami appointed to him and not given into his thirst, Haruo wouldn't be struggling to draw in his dying breath. He truly was responsible for all the deaths and atrocities Yami committed. The murderer did it on his behalf did he not? Wouldn't that mean he was the killer as well? No he wasn't…just a flightless bird imprisoned in an inescapable cage, made to sing for and inspire a madman.

_A caged bird sings for freedom…_

"Oh my goodness!"

Someone screamed and Yugi looked up, horrified.

Time seemed to slow as if in slow motion as Yugi and the other spectators watched with barely concealed cries of horror as the noose suspending Haruo up snapped from weakness with an audible noise that sent chills through Yugi, body completely frozen. Never did his wide amethyst eyes shift from the writhing form descending to ground at a fatal pace, time continuing its agonizing slowness, his heart lodged painfully in his throat. Not even when the boy hit the ground with a sickening crack, blood immediately was flowing freely from a now fragmented skull, dull brown eyes open for all eternity, mouth agape in a pleading scream. Yugi could see now, that this was the way of death Yami had planned. The killer never intended to kill Haruo by suffocation; it was just a cruel means to torture him until he was killed from the killing impact with the ground. This horrible realization only succeeded in bringing forth more suffering to his heart that now bled with the weight of some many deaths occurring, wishing for a liberating numbness to free him from this nightmarish game.

When will it end?

Yugi shivered, ignoring all proceedings around like they didn't exist at all, just too exhausted from everything. His eyes no longer shone with that brilliant radiance they were known for; it was replaced with the emptiness of someone who seen too much death and was unable to prevent it. He so dearly wanted to go home, but he went utterly rigid with a painful realization, trying hard not submit to the flood of tears threatening to spring loose, and a sorrowful moan of grief dying prematurely in his throat. How could he be so forgetful? He no longer lived with his grandfather, but was now a prisoner to a murderer…forever.

Somewhere in the safety of his soul, Yugi could feel the withering fire of hope finally extinguish into charred ash.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/-

As promised, a limo had come to pick Yugi up after the reminder of the school day, which was spent on police and investigators interrogating everyone and thoroughly investigating the crime scene, again proving to no avail. It was with sickening dread that Yugi noticed the replacement of the previous driver, completely enthusiastic about his job and innocently ignorant to the possibility that he could die anytime Yami had one of his unpredictable impulses. He couldn't even bring himself to suggest to the polite man to seek another job before it was too late, mainly because he was still shaken up from Haruo's death and the gut-churning anticipation he was feeling at the prospect of encountering Yami. He knew it shouldn't faze him anymore but his mind refused to get comfortable with the idea he knew a deranged murderer on a personal level, someone who lacked proper morals and fear.

_Monster…_

The teenager trembled slightly as he wrapped his uniform jacket even tighter from the loyal fear that has grown attached to him lately, praying that the driver would slow down to stall for more time. The slower they went, the easier Yugi could think rationally and find some way out of this. He refused to be shackled like he was now. He needed to escape…he needed a plan of action…but what…?

The door beside him opened soundlessly as the driver politely held it out for him, startling Yugi. He hadn't realized they arrived so fast and was reluctant to abandon the safety of the car to walk right into a mad house. But it wasn't like had a choice for Yami wouldn't tolerant such defiance, timid or not. So with that in mind, Yugi stepped into the cool night air, his attention instantly lying upon the impressive, chivalric mansion that was to be his home, momentarily forgetting everything negative about his new living arrangements just to gaze awe-struck at the grand building.

It was at least three stories in elevation and stretched and filled almost every piece of land Yami's spacious property had to offer. Priceless statutes of unbelievable beauty supplemented the area perfectly, regal in their interesting poses. Somewhere where the pathway split that led to one of the finely chiseled entrances of the mansion, was a gorgeous white fountain sprouting water into the air, centered directly in a pond-like body of water where the pale moonlight focused its enthrall rays. The actual mansion itself was in the design of the gothic-Victorian, its coloration an almost celestial black-onyx with a bit of gold providing the structure as a form of highlighter, any stray lights bouncing off of it making it shine with an almost eerie beauty. Whatever else features the mansion possessed was hidden by the buildings sheer size, eliciting a small slither of curiosity in Yugi. The need to explore itched irritably at his curious conscious, all his troubles forgotten so easily in this moment. Slowly, he took a step forth, only to feel a familiar arm encircle him affectionately, a warm breath heating his neck, shutting down his body. And then that velvety, husky voice spoke in soft, disarming whisper:

"_Welcome home, my little muse._"

Resisting the powerful desire to tear himself from the embrace subduing him, Yugi turned slightly to get a good luck at Yami in all his unworldly handsomeness, unreadable crimson eyes meeting wary amethyst in an engaging silence. For a hot minute, Yugi felt defenseless as he saw a deep loneliness mingling with the other emotions that labeled him as a psychopath, but it stood out in those enchanting pools of crimson. It took Yugi's breath away, and without thinking, he found himself unable to stop his hand from lightly touching Yami's finely tanned face, surprised when the man neither snapped at him nor resorted to violence. Instead his breathing became much quieter, almost nonexistent, and the loneliness in his eyes was joined with a touch of longing. But before Yugi could further analyze those seemingly human emotions, Yami reduced their contact until only an arm remained on his waist. Never did those burning eyes leave him though…never…

"Shall we go inside?" Yami suggested quietly, leading them through refined bronze doors before Yugi could answer.

Yugi wasn't surprised to see that the interior matched the outside of the mansion in beauty and grandeur, decorated with valuable items reserved only for high-standing art galleries. White staircases that spiraled slightly split off into different directions, each of them leading to a countless rooms hiding the secrets of the mansion. Portraits of various things ranging from mind-blowing scenery and noble looking people lined the tanned walls, the floor tiled in a crisscrossing black and white pattern, and semi-covered in a lush red carpet. It was a masterpiece, yet Yugi couldn't help but notice the double-locked door standing to the side by itself, exuding the aura of heavy secrecy and mystery. He wanted to know what was inside; his curious nature demanded it so.

"Does it satisfy you?" Yami inquired smoothly, smirking with a strange smugness.

Yugi could only nod, trying his best not to return his gaze back to that mystifying door.

Yami chuckled and was about to say something when a feminine voice interrupted him with a call of his last name, clicking his tongue irritably in order not to enact upon his impulsiveness. It was his maid, Veronica, walking quickly in high heels, her eyes a little exhausted from cantering to the mansion. Never had Yami wanted to behead the girl as much as he did now. "Yes Veronica?"

At first her green eyes glanced questionable at Yugi before respectfully bowing, speaking diligently. "Those art collectors have once again returned to buy one of your many famed pieces, Mr. Atemu. They desire your presence."

"Then send them away," he responded calmly, a nimble hand sifting wearily through his golden bangs. "I am much too tired from today's events to grace their presence."

Yugi could feel Yami's aggravation and it made him cautious, but he still stuck to the man's side for he refused to release through his building temper.

Veronica, sympathetic for her master's obvious weariness, continued to speak, her professional voice laced with sorrow. "Master Atemu, I apologize but they heavily insist on meeting you."

A tense, quick silence followed as Yami expression changed from fatigue, annoyance, and anger in quick succession, giving Yugi a quick look to remain where he was as he followed the maid, walking stiffly. When they had disappeared around a corner, Yugi unwilling found himself heading staring at the lock door, curiosity carrying him there, almost like he was enchanted. God he knew he wasn't supposed to go near that door if it was locked in such away, but he allowed a trembling hand to press lightly against the wooden surface. It swung open invitingly. It was with fear in his heart and a hesitant look on his face he walked into the dimly-lit room, half-expecting the door to close shut as punishment for his trespassing.

Much to his surprise, the room wasn't filled with numerous torture mechanisms, containing nothing but a desk, a black leather swiveling chair, and practically countless metal draws filled with manila folders. On the brown desk lay two discarded folders that stood out amongst all the scattered papers, drawing him closer as he took a small look, stopping when he caught sight of their labels. It was of him and Yami, each folder strained to their capacity limit of how much information they could contain. Yugi, utterly disturbed and frightened, couldn't but wonder who kept information about themselves, thus giving him enough motivation to look through the papers. One peculiar piece of information drew his attention more than the others, so he looked with terrified eyes and a quivering breath.

_**Yami Atemu:**_

_**Born: August 19, 1981**_

_**Blood Type: AB**_

_-The patient has been administered into St. Michael Hospital for the mentally Ill. The patient has shown no signs of recovery. It has been decided to apply harsher treatment. (Report taken in September 28, 1995. Patient is age 12.)_

_-The patient has shown disturbing tendencies to harm himself. We have taken the measure of physically restraining him. (Report taken in July 12, 1997. Patient is age 14)_

_-The patient's mental state has decreased in stability. He has shown recurring tendencies to harm others. We have placed him in an in isolated environment. He continues to show no signs of recovery. (Report taken in November 18, 1999. Patient is age 16)_

_- The patient is beginning to show symptoms of…_

"Wait here Mr. Takashi. The papers are in this room. Let me get them for you."

Encouraged by a numbing fear of being discovered, Yugi dropped the documents he was reading and dove underneath the desk that provided him a small space, standing in a crouched position, perspiration breaking across his face as he covered his mouth, stifling the sounds of his harsh breathing. Black-clad feet entered his line of sight as they stopped directly in front of him, the gravity of the situation increasing the desire to move and run like hell. Only his unreliable self-control stopped him for doing so out of self preservation.

"Please take your time Mr. Atemu. I'm in no hurry."

Horror in his eyes, Yugi felt himself slightly hit the desk from a momentarily lapse of unbalance, the pair of feet before him freezing on the spot, Yami resuming whatever he was doing seconds later. Yugi could only pray that the sound was smothered by the sound of rustling papers, his heart beating fast enough that he could possibly die from cardiac arrest.

"Mr. Atemu, are you ok? Just a second ago, you seemed a little-"

"I'm fine Mr. Takashi. I'm just a little," petrified amethyst met amused crimson as Yami crouched down to Yugi's eye level a rush of movement, chuckling darkly at the almost tangible fear pouring of the terror-stricken teenager, "…tense." Before Yugi could comprehend the impossibly fast movement due to his sudden petrifaction, Yami rose to his feet with an unidentifiable expression on his face, resuming the conversation with the curious-sounding man, leaving Yugi huddled alone and fearing for his life as he dared not run. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, but he would never forget how those eyes quietly promised something that froze Yugi's soul to its core.

_A promise of pain, misfortune, and imprisonment…a punishment._

Yugi could hear the resounding clang of his cage shutting indefinitely, and he began to wonder should he sing, like the caged bird he was.

* * *

**_A/N: _**Did you like it? I'm eager to read your response to this chapter because this is the one I enjoyed writing the most so far. Now I'm tired...and need coffee...


	5. Broken Legs

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_**A/N: **_I deserve to be trampled and beaten to a bloody pulp for promising this to be up in a week's worth of time. How much time has lasped by, hmm? A month perhaps? Yeah I suck. I mean I don't really have an excuse but the truth is I kind of loathed this chapter a little. I honestly had to rewrite a couple of times before I had some type of satisfaction for it. Unfortunately, it deviated from the orginal chapter I had written in my book, so I'm forced to rewrite other things again. -Sigh- Well here you go, the chapter you guy's all been wanting for. I can only hope that satisfies you all, which is my goal you know. And let me not forget to relay my gratitude to my friend _**Chronos Mephistopheles**_ for editing this piece of work. Without her, you'll be able to see all my grammatical errors and such. Thank you very much! It's appreciated! And be forewarned that this chapter is quite long; longer than the other chapters mind you.

_**Chapter Warning**_: Blood, Torture, etc. _**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED**_

**_

* * *

_**

**_Broken Legs_**

_Where can you possibly run…on broken legs?_

Yugi couldn't breathe, couldn't move, and couldn't even keep a firm grasp on any of his dissipating thoughts that escaped him like smoke slipping through desperately grabbing fingers. His heart must have ceased its involuntary beating because Yugi could no longer hear its strong beat that gave everlasting proof that he was alive, that he was _surviving_. Did that mean he was dead? Or perhaps, had his ears stopped functioning or grown numb from fear. Either way, Yugi couldn't bring himself to move from his crouched position under this desk, amethyst eyes still staring blankly at the spot where Yami once stood, mimicking Satan with those emblazed crimson eyes of his that burned for all eternity. And for that sole reason, Yugi suffered from that unpleasant tingling sensation when one's legs fall asleep. Was that why he couldn't move? Of course it wasn't. He couldn't move simply because of the cold fear swimming throughout his body like an uncontrollable epidemic. His heart didn't beat because it was afraid to, just like everything else that functioned in his body. But Yugi knew, even though he wished it to be untrue, he had to move, for the sake of his mental and physical well-being.

Taking in a shaking breath, his ears once again able to hear the telltale thudding of his heart working, Yugi crawled out from the protection of the desk and into the darkness of the room. Unease and paranoia made his nerves stand on end as he grappled for anything that could support his weight until his legs regained their full functioning capabilities, expressing surprise when he made contact with a warm object. Curious, Yugi allowed his fingers to trace the warmness that disturbingly felt like skin, only to realize with an audible gasp that it was a hand. Before he could react, the hand closed around his slightly smaller one and hauled him to his feet with unnerving strength, a cry escaping his mouth when he was suddenly pulled into a one-armed embrace. Yugi looked up, the blood screaming in his ears, fear threatening to swallow him whole.

Amethyst met crimson and all went silent for a drawn out minute.

"Yami…," Yugi breathed out in a whispery breath, afraid of the unnamed intention in crimson depths.

The other remained as immoveable and unresponsive as a marble statue, frightening the small teenager who contemplated easing out of the iron death grip centered on his midsection. As if seeing his unresolved intentions, Yami tightened the grip and eased down towards Yugi's ear, his warm breath making the other shudder in cold anticipation. The killer's lips quirked into unreadable smile before he began speaking in a low, sultry tone that did nothing to relay what he truly felt, unpredictable as always.

"Little muse," Yugi shivered, blinking fearfully, "I am completely disappointed in your lack of control." Yami chuckled darkly and slipped away with the barest of movements, stunning Yugi who stared desperately through the darkness at the lithe form circling the desk with predator-like grace. Even through the dimness, Yugi could make out a nimble hand gathering up the papers that he himself had looked through out of a fearful curiosity, the possible consequences of his action worsening the longer wide amethyst eyes observed those fast-working fingers place papers back into a manila folder. Instinctively, Yugi's eyes strayed towards the beckon of light, which happened to be the wide-open door, and began considering it as an escape route to avoid whatever punishment Yami concocted. He didn't care that it was unwise, illogical, or just plain dangerous. He just wanted to escape, to be unharmed, and most of all just return to the normalcy of his life that people took for granted on an ordinary basis. He just wanted-

"How much did you see?"

"Huh?" It wasn't the most intelligent response Yugi could have responded with, but it would have to do.

Yami let out an irritable hiss of displeasure as he continued to shift through the folder quickly, scanning papers and records, outwardly wearing a countenance of aggravation that gradually got darker while Yugi subconsciously took a step backward. "How much of my files have you read Yugi?" The pages flickered faster between searching fingers until it came to a finite close, crimson eyes meeting wry amethyst, silence tensing up to uncomfortable levels.

"N-Not much Yami," Yugi mumbled feebly, trying to appease the other with the truth, but paling when it did nothing but make the other even more infuriated. Perhaps he really did cross a line that wasn't supposed to be ever crossed.

"Not much, you say?" Yami chuckled mirthlessly as he began walking towards the slightly cowering boy, the shadows giving the appearance that they were stalking the enervated killer. "I shall be the judge of that. Now come, _Yugi_," the heavy emphasis on the teenager's name made his heart jolt in unease and trepidation, "your punishment is waiting."

Yugi had no choice but to follow, trying his best to balance out his breathing before he started to hyperventilate, taking quick note of the consuming emptiness of the beautiful mansion as starlight was the only source of lighting illuminating the foyer. Not a single maid or butler was seen and it rapidly began to eat ravenously at Yugi's nerves and consciousness. Had Yami dismissed his whole staff in preparation of his punishment? That could only mean that whatever was in store for him was going to be enough to draw out screams loud enough to fill the whole mansion. His body numbed at the mere prospect. It wouldn't be wise to think like that, no matter how much it seemed likely to be true, or the strange fact that Yami had led them to a secluded room that was grand enough to be the killer's personal quarters. But even as Yugi took in the dark room in his state of disquietude, he couldn't find any type of torture of mechanism. Did that mean he-

_Click_.

Gasping softly, Yugi whirled around and locked gazes with smoldering blood-red irises, regarding how bronze, dagger-calloused fingers twisted around a gilded, golden lock. It was no wonder why his heart squeezed horridly in his chest at the demoralizing sound because it sounded awfully like his chances of taking flight dying once more. Should he prepare his vocal cords to reach heights he didn't know that they could possibly achieve? Or perhaps should he just catapult himself over the balcony that whispered freedom to him?

Whatever desperate, hopeless thoughts Yugi were having silenced immediately when insidious fingers cupped the milky flesh of his cheek; deceiving in their warmth, and frightening in their surprising gentleness. Eyes of scorching crimson demanded his answering gaze, an arm snaking around his slender form comfortably as fingers attempted to soothe away the tense muscles in Yugi's back. It was like being put under a silent spell that induced a wave of blissful ignorance, persuading him to forget all his problems the longer he fell under that hypnotic gaze, unfeeling and oblivious to the fleeting sting of a syringe pricking his arm. Before the dazed teenager could fully comprehend, the hazy fog thickened immensely until his mind began to slack in keeping up with the ongoing events of his surroundings. Such as how he was now sitting almost lethargically upon Yami's king-sized bed, watching the twisting shadows created from the fireplace flicker all throughout the room like dancing wraiths. He didn't understand how Yami could invoke such a bout of weariness with a mere stare of his eyes, no matter how alluring they were. There must have been something else that he missed, something vital. But it was hard, trying to focus and think while under the growing influence of whatever this was that was making him so tired.

"Yami…what…what is this…?" Amethyst eyes shifted towards the semi-blurred figure he believed to be Yami, voice soft with a substantial amount of exhaustion, his breathing becoming slower and slower the longer this unexpected fatigue came over him, smothering in its power. It was so overwhelming, so consuming that Yugi couldn't help but fall prey to the irresistible invitation that was the silky, crimson duvet of the bed beneath him, the resistance his eyelids were putting up succumbing to this unknown foe.

"Allow yourself to sleep dear muse. You will need every ounce of energy when you awaken…I assure you," promised the velvety, baritone voice that could only belong to the one sifting through Yugi's unruly hair with eager fingers. Weren't it for Yugi remembering the threat of his punishment looming around, he would have allowed himself to fall into unconsciousness without protest, so he struggled as best as he could to stay in awareness. Of course, he failed and couldn't stay awake, especially with glowing blood-red eyes silently laughing at him, condemning his peace of mind like the damned. It was with closed eyes, Yugi realized something vital, his lingering thought circling around it with horror and indignation.

'_I_ _had been drugged…. But how…?_'

* * *

_Disorientated, stiff, restrained._

They were only words that could describe the horrible sensation Yugi was feeling as eyes groggily blinked open into awareness, making a motion to move his hand only to stiffen fearful at the cold metal biting harshly into the chaffed skin of his wrist. He tried to move his other limbs, only to come to the same conclusion of being restrained and extremely uncomfortable, his eyes darting wildly to the sides to take in his surroundings. He was still in Yami's room which was no different from the way he last he saw it, excluding the fact the balcony was closed and the room's only light source was the dancing flames of the fire place. The very owner of the room remained either unseen or elsewhere, eliciting another futile struggle against the handcuffs binding him to the bed, trying to voice his displeasure only to become conscious of the cloth that gagged him. He screamed mentally as a few frustrated tears escaped his clenched eyes, wishing by some miracle for an angel of some sort to free him from his chains and take him away from the madness he was entangled in. It was useless to think this and Yugi mentally reprimanded himself from even contemplating a baseless dream, his struggles subsiding to nothing while his eyes lingered dully on the expensive canopy above him, dismissing the ever present fact that he was clothed only in his blue slacks.

How long ago was it that he once viewed his tormentor as a potential person to get acquainted with? A few days or a week perhaps? So in a span of the time that has transpired, he was stuck in a situation like this, wondering what could possible happen that required him to be in this restrained state with no means to escape. Yugi knew from the depths of his petrified soul that whatever was going to happen was inevitable going to bring his mixed feelings of pity and fear to a level that has never been reached before. The thought alone was enough to summon a small dismayed sound from his lightly perspiring throat because he knew what it was, and it scared him.

_Hatred…_

Never in his 17 years of life have he ever hated anyone in his life for his soul wouldn't allow such negativity to taint it. He didn't hate those bullies back in middle school for teasing him about his abnormal hair and lonely nature. He didn't hate the boy named Haruo and his lackeys for making an almost successful attempt at his life earlier that day. What he felt was a deep flowing pity and nothing else. No contempt, no dislike, and definitely not the passionate poison of hatred. Honestly, being the forgiving and understanding person that he was, Yugi was afraid to hate. He was afraid to hate the misunderstood person going to enact on whatever impulsive desire that was driving him to do this. He didn't want that sympathy and pity to be eradicated into nothing, not when Yugi was perhaps the only _existing_ person to feel such things for the very mentally ill killer.

'_I can't…I don't want to hate Yami. I want to help him, understand him like the way he wants me to. But how can I when he continues to do such horrible things?_' Yugi questioned himself, the conflict that stemmed from his inquiry stirring a frustrated groan to vibrate lowly in his throat.

_Then again_…why should he waste any effort to help a person that continues to torment him, intentionally or not?

Yugi inwardly balked at the unfriendly thought his subconscious brought to the forefront of his mind, but sadly couldn't deny the truth behind the question. Why should he help a person that did nothing but make his life a living hell? The very one that killed in his name in a disturbing effort to please him; the one that killed his best friend; that blackmailed him to leave his home, and overall tried to make his existence one of misery. Where was the point in helping someone who couldn't be helped? After all, how can you possibly help someone who was suffering from schizophrenia?

_The patient is beginning to show symptoms of schizophrenia__._

He hadn't lied to Yami when he had said he read very little. There had been more to that report than he had seen, but the last line he had glimpsed was of Yami being schizophrenic. Only now was it beginning to bother Yugi who could only wonder how the killer was released from the hospital when it very clear that he was very dangerous to society. Perhaps, he fooled his doctors into believing a well-performed display of good behavior, let loose an arsenal of his enchanting charm, and compelling smiles. It was an impenetrable disguise, seeing as Yugi was reaping the consequences of falling for it. If only he had gone straight home that day instead of taking that detour that would ruin his life.

_If only he could turn back the hands of time…_

"So, you have awakened from your slumber, my muse? Then let us began, shall we?"

Amethyst eyes wide with apprehension, throat convulsively swallowing, Yugi turned his head to face the direction where that familiar, husky voice came from, taking in the sight of Yami in all his alluring glory, leaning casually against the entrance to the room, garbed in a fancy robe that's coloration matched the bloody hue of his eyes. Between his bronze fingers, was a wine glass filled what Yugi guessed to be some type of alcoholic beverage, wine perhaps. In those smoldering eyes of scarlet, was an appreciative gleam that grew brighter like the anticipating smile adorning Yami's lips the longer he gazed upon Yugi's uncomfortable form, appearing to be a predator ready to devour its prey. Unease and anxiety weakened the calm façade Yugi was holding up as Yami finished his drink with a content sigh and languidly made his way towards a desk, pulling out an inkwell and a unique writing utensil with a dagger-like edge from a hidden compartment.

Desperately, Yugi felt the powerful urge to beg and plead as Yami loomed closer with his peculiar tools, looking more like Satan himself, devilish smirk and all. But despite his apparent delight forever what was about to happen, Yugi could see the blank, emotionless look in narrowed crimson eyes, like he was detaching himself from what could be a painful ordeal. Was it too hopeful to believe that Yami didn't want to do this? Maybe if he could somehow rid himself of this gag that has ridden him speechless, he could convince Yami not to go through with this. At this point, Yugi was willing to try anything to escape contact with that strange pen.

"I'm being extremely lenient with you, Yugi," Yami spoke softly as he placed the inkwell upon the side dresser, dipping the strange pen in a few times until the keen point dripped steadily with ink, making a fresh layer of cold sweat break out on Yugi's milky pale skin. "Normally, my punishments consist of a game that serves to put pressure on one's mentality before I proceed to the actual physical torture. But with you," his voice dropped an octave lower until it was naught but a breathy whisper, "I'll just skip phase one. Better, right?"

'_No, please don't Yami. I beg you, don't do this, please,_' Yugi inwardly pleaded, listening to the harsh increase of his hearts palpitations until its beat resembled a deadly pendulum of death. His shallow breathing escalated to a point of near hyperventilation as warm, searching fingers roamed his exposed chest leisurely, searching for a spot to begin whatever Yami had in mind.

They settled only centimeters away from his ribcage, and a horridly beautiful smile touched Yami's lips as he spoke tenderly, making an attempt to comfort the frightened teenager beneath him. "As an artist, it is critical that I always add my signature to any of my pieces work. I will be doing the same to you so you'll always remember who claims every part you. Like your heart for example," bronze fingers glided smoothly across pale quivering skin to where the strong organ was beating at a startling rate, "your body," smirking lips swept down and placed the briefest of kisses against the throbbing temple of his muse before reeling back, absorbing the luscious wide-eyed gaze of disbelieving amethyst eyes. "And let's not forget my personal favorite," Yami murmured in a hushed, velvety tone, his half-lidded vermillion eyes disclosing a complex array of emotions, "your soul. It will all belong to me."

'_This…can't be happening. He's not serious, he can't be…,_' Yugi inwardly denied fruitlessly, allowing his distressed, glassy eyes to relay his emotions of horror, denial, and fear. He should have known better to try and plead against the resigned look enforced with an inhumane resolve steeling scarlet eyes. But he was beginning to succumb to hysteria the closer that dagger-tipped pen inched closer to his skin, secreting that blank ink steadily, dripping ominously onto his skin. It felt so frigid against his skin that Yugi believed that even his soul shivered from the contact.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt…much," Yami reassured with an undertone of dark amusement, effectively straddling Yugi by moving himself over the panicking teen's slim waist, legs carefully positioned on either side of the frantic teenager's hip to restrain any sudden movement. In response to the new position, Yugi flushed a beautiful shade of scarlet and turned his head away in embarrassment, only to have his chin tilted back in Yami's direction, whimpering fearfully at the lustful expression etched on the murderer's face.

"This is a rather provocative position, is it not? It is very unfortunate that were not engaging in what it is insinuating," mused the killer in what Yugi was afraid to conclude to be a strong longing, hoping that the sexual innuendo was just a sick joke that the other was humoring himself with. It was most unfortunate that the considerable cluster of emotions darkening ruby irises did nothing to support his hopeful thinking.

Elongated seconds of tension began tick by as this uncomfortable pressure settled upon Yugi's mind the longer he continued to watch Yami mutter to himself inaudibly while his eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration, waiting for when he would feel cold metal tear into his skin. He was wishing for it, just to get it over with so he could quell his frying nerves and ease his exhausted conscious, valuing the idea, if possible, that he would just become unconscious. But even Yugi knew-no matter how unfair it was- would Yami actually let Yugi submit to such a blissful escape. The psychopath wasn't one to show mercy and Yugi was so weary of asking for it that he let it become nothing more than an irretrievable dream.

So Yugi waited with terror and anticipation, and like he expected, the pain came and began the very destruction of the fragile attempt he made to brace himself.

He screamed, although muffled, the moment he felt the inky liquid and sharp point tear into his skin deeply until it touched flesh, drawing blood in hot rivulets that streamed of his body to drip softly unto the duvet below. It was horrible, agonizing, and unbelievable in its intensity, like someone was leisurely pressing hot knives against his skin and gliding it along it with exaggerated slowness. Yugi could see, through the tears blinding him and his torrent of muffled screams portraying the excoriating pain that was killing him slowly, the black ink infusing itself into the lacerations Yami was etching skillfully into his skin, remaining professional and clearly concentrated with his work. It burned, the ink that is, as it began to congeal and commingle disgustingly into his wounds, softly burning the tender, pink flesh until the healthy color was as black as the devil's heart.

_God_ kill him now. End his life, strike him down, do _something_ to save him from this torturous agony that was assaulting every portion of his being. There was no safety within his whole body to dive behind, no escape from the merciless gripe of the agony seizing his brain, body, and soul, aching for death and relishing it as a holy savior. Wasn't Yami supposed to protect him from harm? The very vow echoed emptily within his writhing conscious, so sincere and deep. Then _why…_why was he still suffering? Unless, the murderer had exempted himself from his promise?

_Agony…_

"Did you know that was Anzu's heart I sent you? Did you understand why the gesture was so sentimental besides the heart's symbolic value?"

'_What…no…Anzu…her heart…?_'

"Did you like it Yugi?"

Through the haze of his pain and suffering, the questions barely registered in Yugi' mind, and when it did, the pain he was experiencing seemed to intensify tenfold, his body shuddering violently with an overflow of emotion. He felt anger, sorrow, disbelief, and a strange sick feeling that made him nauseous. Yugi refused to believe that he had buried his dead friend's heart in his backyard, refused to accept that deflated, pathetic mass of blood, rotten tissue, and dead muscle was once a part of his friend's body. No, it couldn't be. Yami didn't know anything, he spoke and breathed lies. Yet, Yugi had no choice but to listen to the horrible voice that was derived from logic as it pointed out the heinous detail that Yami never once lied to him. Never did that man's devilish tongue formulate words of dishonesty.

_No. No. No. No._

_Lies… _

"I killed her parents before I played a game with her. She never stood a chance the moment she ran out of the room as she refused the wine I had generously offered her. And you know what," Yami laughed sadistically, flicking his hand deftly as he began curving another letter of his signature, blinking emotionlessly at another strained scream vibrated in Yugi's glistening throat, "the key to her survival lie soaking in her wine glass. Had she bothered to drink like I suggested, she would've been alive and well. But," crimson eyes watched with sick fascination as the awful amount of blood escaping from the wounds that kept pouring onto his bed, "I would have taken her life eventually."

For an excoriating moment, Yugi's heart stopped briefly at the revelation, turning his pain-tainted amethyst eyes towards Yami with the emotion that he feared, unable to stop it from burning throughout him like an impassioned flame. He felt it, _hatred's _passion as it gave birth to vengeful thoughts spurred on by this horrible emotion, reaching sinisterly to taint his soul, to darken it with sin. But surprisingly, the assault of this heated feeling subsided so quickly and unexpectedly that it left Yugi exhausted and detached from the pain that was seizing his body. He grew quiet except the occasional groan that rumbled in his throat when a sensitive part of his skin was cut away, turning his empty, dull orbs to the mentally disturbed man violating his body with that horrible writing utensil. And as if drawn to the section of his body that was to be forever marred by an ugly string of scars, Yugi finally took in Yami's disgusting masterpiece in all its blackish-red perfection, a foreign pressure constricting the strained organ that was his heart. The more he stared at it, the more tears escaped the corners of his eyes, trying so hard not to comprehend the fact that it was forever etched into his once flawless skin.

_**P H A R A O H**_

Tainted red blood and pure black was what gave those seven letters their ability to stand out, meaning that whoever saw the ugly string of scars would see its repulsiveness. And still, the horrid scar seeped a reddish-black liquid from each individual letter, resembling the purity of his body draining away. Each painful breath combined with the unsympathetic caress of the air, irritated the raw flesh of Yugi's wounds, as if someone was sprinkling salt upon his injury at a tortuously slow pace. Even as he lay there, bleeding, crying silently, he didn't react to the iron chains shackling him to the bed releasing his limbs one by one, nor the gag that was removed carefully from his mouth. He didn't react when strong, evenly-muscled arms cradled him into a lean, silk-covered chest or when a husky, baritone voice whispered affectionate endearments on his behalf. Only when his back made contact with another duvet made of a semi-different material, but equally as soft, did Yugi's soft sobs subside emptily, his beautiful amethyst orbs, once radiant with happiness, now hollowed with pain, did Yugi face the one responsible for all his suffering. Without thinking and letting the full extent of his emotions for the man control his vocal cords, did Yugi utter in a soft, empty voice words that made crimson eyes widen.

"_I hate you_."

Yami blinked emotionlessly, the thoughtless stroking of Yugi's tri-colored hair halting abruptly as he gazed at the half-naked, bloodstained boy before him, waiting for him to take back those words that stirred something uncomfortable and painful within him. He heard those inflamed words before countless times from a certain amount of influential people in his life. A funny thing is that they all shared something in common: they were all dead, executed by him personally. Those terrible words brought him all type of grief and despair in his earlier years; and now, to hear the object of his infatuation saying those words before him effected him more than he liked. The impulse to wrap his hands around the pale boy's glistening neck was powerful, yet he stilled the impulsive reaction and remained staring, waiting for Yugi to take them back and say he didn't mean it. But those desolate, accusing violet orbs fixed into a weak glare were as honest and sincere as ever in their refinement, causing Yami's elaborate mind to shut down, exiting the room with a hissing swish of his silky robe and a premeditated destination in mind.

"_Go back. Kill him for not appreciating the honor of baring your signature. Kill him for hurting you. Kill him for his trespassing into your most secret files. Than collect his blood and resume the art of slaughter. All you have to do is pick up your dagger and-"_

'_Silence! I need neither your console nor company. All I need is…solitude,' _snarled Yami mentally with a dangerous viciousness, griping his head in aggravation while the other hand used the dark wall for support, breathing in a stringent manner, clearly violate at the moment. He didn't need this right now, that annoying, intrusive voice speaking its highly unwanted opinions, sarcastic comments, or unjustified remarks. Not when his heart still throbbed unpleasantly as his mind sickeningly replayed Yugi's words repeatedly, his tone of voice and sincerity replicated perfectly. Yami just didn't understand why his muse could direct such a passionate, negative emotion at him. How was he even able to experience it when his soul was as pure as holy water and possibly contained all its properties? It hurt, yet his ability to hide everything under an emotionless mask was one of his many perfected talents, which was why he was able to travel the many, deserted halls of his mansion seemingly unbothered. The need to inflict pain and feel blood drenching his hands was beginning to exceed its normally controlled levels the longer his internal pain intensified.

"_You wouldn't have this problem if you'd do as I say. Who could possibly be worthy enough to kill besides the one responsible for your pain, Yami? Tell me and I'll go away for the moment,_" bargained the voice in a dark, tempting whisper, chuckling when the red-eyed killer considered the proposition. It knew there was not a single soul that would give Yami the gratifying release he was inwardly craving for except the boy occupied in one of the killer's spare rooms. He could take a hundred lives and never be calmed. It was with this little piece of information that the disembodied voice teased its host with.

Emblazoned, crimson eyes half-lidded from thought; Yami gracefully vacated the room he had journeyed to, in which a humongous library was housing a massive collection of books and other sources of information, some new and some old. Upon the checkered ceiling was a golden chandelier that illuminated everything its brilliant light touched, excluding the portion of the room that was drenched in the pale creaminess that was the moon's light, its source of entry being the expansive glass wall giving an impressive view of the back of Yami's property. It was there that the unworldly, handsome man chooses to sit at, crossing his legs regally as he leaned back against the plush upholstery of the chair while reflexively brushing away one of lightening-gold bangs obscuring his vision. It was here, surrounded by countless pieces of literature, did Yami decided to retire for a quiet place to confront his thoughts.

"_Well? I'm waiting Yami. As like you, my patience diminishes rather rapidly._" The voice hissed with a serpentine-like quality, eager for the answer it was being denied. Again, Yami fell into an unfazed silence and concentrated his gaze upon the shimmering waters of his gorgeous pool, its surface reflecting the moon. Amused, the voice let out a triumphant snort, taking the lack of reply to be a sign of speechlessness. And so it spoke again, taunting playfully to disguise its malevolence. "_As I originally thought. There is no one to but your little infatuation worthy enough to be the outlet of your emotions. Than what are you waiting for? From the looks of things, it didn't look like the boy would resist anyway. His will was brutally destroyed when he realized that there would be no escape from our grasp. Go on Yami. You know you want to, to taste his blood on your tongue. Come on…,_" coaxed the voice with delicious glee, laughing as his words began to take effect upon the murderer, conflict resonating in vermillion irises before they calmed once more, a maddened grin adorning thin lips.

'_Your right…like always. I desire his blood…but not at this moment_,' he confessed with an enigmatic undercurrent lacing his voice, his hand rummaging into a side-desk supporting a lamp until he brought forth a diamond encrusted dagger that has brought death to many. Upon retrieving the glistening blade, Yami felt the voice become passive, knowing that it was observing like a hawk going to swoop in on its prey. '_Instead_,' Yami pushed back the sleeve of his right arm, gazing almost forlornly at the faded scars lining his arm in a almost sickening patter, '_I will take delight in drawing my own. I need naught bring my little one any more pain than needed. He has endured his punishment._'

"_Once again, you shed your own blood in the name of some petulant child. Have your time in St. Michael's taught you nothing? Honestly-"_

'_Enough!' _Yami interrupted vehemently, growing weary as time continued to proceed on unhindered, the sliver dagger pressed firmly at his skin, ready to carve yet another scar that would join the ranks of the others. '_I demand silence._'

"_Like always…_" It was with that cynical remark, the voice faded eerily into the recesses of Yami's mind.

Emotionless and still suffering from Yugi's voice resounding in his head, Yami put his full attention into the task at hand, allowing the dagger to trace light patterns on his skin, an idea formulating in his mind the more he watched this mindless movement. What he had planned should-no would stand out as an endearment to his muse. He saw it as the only means to redeem himself in those empty amethyst eyes, and so permitted his artistic imagination to take control, just like when had marked his signature into Yugi's skin. Unlike his little muse, Yami released neither sound nor word as the dagger's point cut deep into his flesh, the instant pain caressing his nerves and mind familiarly, just as how the mundane, gradually-growing stream of blood glided down his skin. His years in that accursed mental institution helped him built a disturbing immunity to pain's unpleasantness until he began to like it. Pain was his way to escape from all the unoriginal doctors and nurses claiming to try to help him with dealing with his parent's deaths. But they couldn't understand and never was able to.

_Y_

How long did it last when he lapsed into a sudden silence when he was first administered into that place? A year or two maybe? Whatever the duration of his silence was, Yami could he say he took great amusement in watching the doctors struggle with his uncooperative nature, if you could call not speaking not cooperating. He refused to relay details about his parent's gruesome deaths seeing as he was the only witness, at least that was what he made them believe. It wouldn't be wise to let the authorities know that he was the one who actually took their lives. He made it appear that he was but a traumatized kid that just endured his parents being killed, hiding in corner and crying hysterically for added effect. They bought it of course and placed him in a mental hospital after concluding his mental health wasn't up to par with other kids his age. Thus, beginning six, hellish years in the crazy house.

_U_

Yami made a noncommittal sound in his throat as his nerves screamed at the atrocious fire consuming them, watching with a kind of aloofness at the blood escaping the cursive letters he was cutting into his skin, and reflecting on how they shared the same symbolic meaning like Yugi. Just as his muse belonged to him entirely, he would also give himself to the teen, hoping that it would gain him a positive reaction. Like perhaps, a kiss from those luscious lips and a verbal display of gratitude and appreciation for this endearing act. It was a lighthearted hope that he desperately yearned to come into fruition, believing that it would put everything behind them to start anew. However, he wasn't ashamed to admit that he didn't feel any remorse for his harsh actions. It was amazing enough that he displayed even a shred of lenience because the full extent of his punishment would have been much worse. But, there were aspects to Yugi's punishment that he didn't enjoy, thus giving reason as to why he had to remain indifferent. The muffled screams that tore through a pale, quivering body and the vain pleading being spoken in glistening amethyst eyes was what bothered him, which was strange to say the least since he enjoyed the screams of his victims. Yet, it had to be done or else Yugi would never learn.

_G_

Blood loss was making it difficult to concentrate as his vision swooned and blurred the deeper he cut the symbols into his arm. Seeing as he lacked ink, it was required to make them deeper than he had with Yugi's so they would stand out more. Unfortunately, the lack of blood flowing through his veins was also disrupting the calmness of his mind till he began to remember things about his past, forbidden memories that should never resurface. He didn't want to face them, not in this weakened state…

"_What you carry boy is an unnatural disease that will not be tolerated in my house! You have indeed been touched by Satan! I want you out of my sight until I figure out a way to purge you of your sin!" Barked Aknamkanon in his disgust, appraising his son Yami with cold reverence, devoid of the warmth the 12 year old had grown accustomed to._

"_Father," Yami began, tears burning his sorrowful crimson eyes, "what I carry is not a disease. It's a…wonderful feeling. Why can't you accept it, accept me?"_

_The man snorted in his disgust, rising from his grand chair to tower darkly over his despairing son, his formerly pristine white school uniform ruffled in his distress. From his spot in the center of the living room, Aknamkanon could feel the unwavering gaze of his wife Amisi boring harshly into their son, her chocolate brown eyes radiating her lack of tolerance for her son's recent admission. She too felt that Yami's confession was unacceptable and thought that it stemmed from the influence of the devil. And that was all the encouragement Aknamkanon needed to raise his hand and bring it down for a heavy blow._

_Smack!_

_Breath hitching tightly in his throat, Yami looked up at his father with disbelieving eyes from his spot on the ground, blankly touching the stinging skin of his cheek with two fingers, not understanding why he had been just struck. Never in all his lifetime did his father ever abuse him in any way for there was never a need. Never had he every committed any bad deeds or wrongs to warrant such a thing. Besides, Yami held the impression that his father would never strike him, yet as of right now, his was indefinitely wrong. Still, Yami didn't understand as to what brought forth such a violent reaction from his normally soft-spoken father. He was completely and utterly baffled._

"_You ask why I can't accept you, Yami Atemu," seethed the irate man, glaring at his son with smoldering crimson eyes capable of sending a shudder of disquiet through the trembling boy. "It is because in this house, we are devote follower's to the Christian faith. The bible is our guide through life and nowhere in its holy scriptures does it say that homosexuality is acceptable. It is a sin, and sin is guaranteed to be the work of the devil."_

_Helpless and distraught, Yami turned towards the usually compassionate eyes of his mother, expecting her to save him from his father temporary lapse into insanity, only to feel an immense wave of sickness swoop over him at her unsympathetic chocolate eyes. Just like that, her greatest talent for compassion and understanding was gone like that, vanished as soon as he admitted to liking this boy at school. Yami couldn't even describe the hurt and anguish clawing vigorously at his heart as he let his vibrant, gold-colored bangs hang limply between his eyes, turning to face the lush carpet blanketing the floor. Perhaps his feelings for his classmate were truly poisonous and sinful to elect such a horrid transformation in his parent's personalities. Maybe he truly was under an ailment formed by the devil. Then why was it that he felt so euphoric and elated when in the presence of- _

Crimson eyes dilated to slits and teeth clenched in suppressed rage at succumbing to the trauma of reliving such a painful memory. It was enough to almost bring forth repressed emotions to the forefront of Yami's mind.

"_My word Yami,_" exclaimed the patronizing voice in mild shock, making the addressed person hiss in frustration as he almost disfigured the last letter of the name being carved into his arm. "_You haven't thought about that particular memory in such a long time. Do you see the influence that this child has over you? He's making you relive that awful time. You should just kill him._"

'_Have you no control in your unwelcomed appearances? You promised me peace of mind as ironic as it sounds. Now leave me be…,_' Yami breathed in his exhaustion, pupils dilated from excessive loss of blood as he quickly placed the weapon down and rummaged for a roll of gauze to bandage his supposed endearment that would help regain Yugi's favor. He couldn't help the annoyance that coursed through him at the sight of his fingers trembling, displaying a rare sign of weakness. But it was all worth it, those four letters that spelled his muse's name was worth every ounce of blood that he spilled.

_Y U G I _

"_You're becoming sentimental Yami." _Stated the voice with poorly concealed contempt, growling in frustration as his attempts to antagonize his host was blatantly ignored by the white medical cloth Yami was tying careful around his arm, effectively stanching the blood flow. "_Why do you choose to ignore me?"_

'_Because I have neither the energy nor the patience to humor your nonsense at the moment, I want you to adhere to my wishes and be gone,' _requested Yami mentally with a slight slur in his voice, letting his head lean against the plush material of his chair, eyelids succumbing to the weight of fatigue.

"_I'm not letting you off that easily Yami! You're going to…_"

Smirking in satisfaction at the troublesome voice becoming disorientated in his sinking into a unconscious slumber, Yami sighed leisurely, letting dreams of his muse lull him to sleep.

* * *

"_Do you really hate me," inquired a husky voice, dripping with a sarcastic mocking. "Can you even hate me?"_

_Sneaker covered feet shuffled in discomfort, amethyst eyes peering through the darkness surrounding him, looking for the source of the disembodied voice. Finding nothing, the teenager decided best to give his invisible guest an answer, speaking with cynicalness not normally found in his warm voice. "I don't even know who you are. I don't even know where I am."_

_The voice released a dark chuckle of amusement, startling the wide eyed teen as his being began to manifest itself, becoming someone the teenager couldn't even stand to be around. Relishing the contempt he was receiving, the figure leisurely took a step closer to his prey and made a sound of delight at the boy's inability to move away. And just to increase the boy's discomfort and tension, he pulled the boy into warm embrace, smirking sadistically when he saw the boy's body trying to move. He was as lifeless as a puppet on strings, unable to move without his master's aid._

"_Of course you know who I am. Do you know who you are?"_

_The boy's grimacing lips opened to respond only to discover with horror that he didn't actually know who he was. "I…no I don't."_

_Bronze fingers skittered teasingly down the boy's temple, journeying down with sensuous skill as he elected shudders from the body in his arms, stopping at the boyish chin, tilting ever so slightly to meet heavenly eyes directly. He saw_ _everything in those soulful eyes; contempt, anger, helplessness, and fear. But nowhere in those shining amethyst orbs did he see any form of hatred or any signs of that negative emotion developing._

"_You are my beloved one, Yugi Motou," purred the shadowed man with a tinge of possessiveness, chuckling at Yugi's disbelieving expression. "You belong to me as you carry my mark upon your very skin." Fingers snaked smoothly up Yugi's shirt, digging fingers into scarred skin that made Yugi scream, tears pouring from his eyes as he felt blood wetting his skin._

"_Why…?" Yugi croaked, writhing and struggling against his tormentor._

_A laugh that could only be described as horrifying and blood-curdling rang through the darkness as the shadowed figure leaned closer to Yugi's neck, kissing and biting erotically at the reddening skin. "Because my dear one," fingers dug deeper, more blood seeped, "you need to wake up."_

_Confusion was imminent on the boy's face as his breathing escalated to harsh inhales of delicious air, watching the ground beneath them lighten with blood, dispersing the shadows with a hiss. Everything began to mingle into each other, strangely illuminating the figure before him, making amethyst eyes widen. Indeed he did know this man, the person that has caused him misery in reality and whatever unusual dimension this was._

"_Yami…?" The name was spoken with distaste and bafflement._

_Crimson eyes narrowed sharply on him, intentions concealed behind a cold fire. "Awaken Yugi."_

_**What…?**_

"_I don't understand."_

_More blood seeped, the shadows submitting to the red, the pain just a figment of Yugi's imagination. _

"_Open your eyes."_

_Before Yugi's eyes, the familiar person that was supporting him vanished, releasing him to the floor with a gasp of terror as his hands came into contact with the rapidly growing current of blood, drenching his clothing in the warm consistency of the liquid. It invoked Yugi's fear to the point where he was paralyzed with it, trying with all his worth to move his legs to escape the inevitable of drowning. But he wasn't able to, as if they lost all function, as if they were broken, crushing his hopes of escaping this sea of blood. Somewhere in the distance, Yugi could swear he could hear a chorus of screaming and unanswered pleads for mercy, deafening in their volume as it sought to grow louder, more intense. His very ears felt like they were bleeding from the horrible sounds, the sounds of people dying a torturous death. How could he possibly escape on these broken legs of his? How can escape the screams of the damned and the sea of blood that threatened to submerge him any second?_

"_Help me…" Yugi pleaded to no one, voice just a small indent in the overpowering screams of the tormented._

_No one came, the blood increased in presence, the screams rising even more if possible._

"_Please," he gasped, amethyst eyes glistening with unshed tears, stomach tightening with sickness the longer he bathed in this pool of blood. "Yami…help me."_

_Yugi didn't understand why that name of all names escaped his lips seeing as he resented the man, but he wasn't complaining when he actually appeared before him, smiling with a sadistic glee. Was he enjoying this like the psychopath he was? Yet desperation and a hysteric desire to escape clouded Yugi's judgment of asking the killer to help, so he clung to the soft material of Yami's black slacks, openly sobbing._

"_Make it stop. Stop the screaming, stop the blood please."_

_Yami merely tilted his head slightly, studying the blood-stained creature at his feet with rapt interest, the smile adorning his lips twisting to a frigid smirk of nonchalance. "But Yugi, I thought you hated me?"_

"_No…no I don't hate you. I can't."_

"_Prove it."_

_Everything crumbled into a blinding darkness as Yugi's resistance fell, succumbing to the torturous of this twisted reality, which in fact was a reflection to his conflicted thoughts on the very person that could save him._

* * *

Cold sweat enveloped the disturbed teenager as he awoke from his mystifying nightmare with a strangled gasp, his hands patting wildly at his body to see if he was actually alive and not drowning in that horrid sea of blood. Relaxing at the positive results of his self-examination, Yugi sighed and run his small, trembling fingers through the wildness of his hair, exuding a breath of relief and fear. He couldn't for the life of him distinguish the meaning of that dream and he was beginning to wonder if that was even such a good idea at the moment. After all, from what Yugi gauged from the brilliant light of the sun phasing through the curtains of his windows, morning just arrived with the promise of a new day, meaning it was time to great his grandfather downstairs and-

Yugi froze in a cruel numbness, wide amethyst orbs finally absorbing his surroundings more crucially.

This wasn't the room that was with him for a good portion of his life. That gigantic, oak wardrobe in the far corner next an impressive, decorative bookshelf didn't belong to him. In fact, this unbelievably soft duvet that he was threading through his fingers was not his navy blue comforter that his grandfather bought him. This could only mean that everything that transpired was real, down to his experience at his new school to the agonizing scarring of his flesh. Tears, fresh and abundant in their amount cascaded down pale cheeks as Yugi pulled back the covers from his midsection to trace black letters that bespoke Yami's claim with shaking, disbelieving fingers. And as if to further prove that it was a permanent deal, they throbbed horribly with an almost crippling intensity at the slightest movement involving his ribs. They would never leave, these seven letters that bring forth such suffering. Never. No matter how many times he would scrub at the black letters, they wouldn't disappear.

It was disgusting, utterly repulsive in its impureness.

Immediately, Yugi sought for a shirt to hide his disfigurement from himself, having mixed feelings when he saw the familiar red letters of Yami's note and a set of casual clothing laid out at the end of the bed. Should he even bother to read it, especially when the mere thought of Yami disturbed the fragile peace of his mind? Just the thought of his captor was enough to invoke a strange wave of numbness throughout Yugi because he honestly didn't know what to feel for him at the moment. Of course there was anger and a powerful feeling of dislike, but then there was confusion. At the moment, his feelings were too difficult to sort through, so he cast a side glance at the excellent display of penmanship and dawned on his new clothing, grudgingly relishing in the soft material that surprisingly didn't aggravate his wound.

It was nothing but a white shirt and some form-fitting grey slacks, completed with a black leather belt and a pair of socks, perfect attire for just lounging around one's house.

'_Yes my house…my new house_,' Yugi thought bitterly, deciding to just read the note so to not incur Yami's wrath seeing as the experience wasn't a pleasant one. An embittered smile adorned Yugi's lips, so close to just releasing a small chuckle to go with it. Yes, it definitely wasn't a good experience.

_Dear Yugi,_

_Get dressed and come downstairs to the dining room. It should be easy enough to find without you wandering off. I believe we have some tension to dispel between us after last night's events. And a good meal will make proceedings easier._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Yami Atemu_

A melancholy sigh lift soft lips and jaded amethyst eyes closed thoughtfully, mentally preparing for the confrontation with the devil himself. He wasn't sure if he was prepared for the inevitable at the moment, mainly because he just came out of bed with dual feelings that refused to settle on positive or negative. It was rapidly on its way to becoming a migraine and he actually had to support himself on one of the polished wooden beams of the canopy bed, threading slim fingers into his tri-colored locks. If only he had an hour or two to prepare himself, to think of a strategy on how to not lose his temper when Yami would say something that would be unintentionally insensitive as was in his nature. Truly, Yugi ruminated on just defiantly waiting here in this room, but the consequences of antagonizing a certain impatient serial killer made the idea worthless, much to his chagrin. There really weren't any good options for the anxious teen, bringing a sense of foreboding to him as he nervously made his way out of his room, duly noting how once again the mansion was vacant and ominously quite. Didn't a mansion as grand and spacious as this one need staff to manage it?

Deciding to just ignore it, Yugi continued on with his weary pace through the seemingly never-ending corridors of the upper level, bypassing doors that tugged dangerously at his curiosity. Not one door was the same as the other for each possessed a unique quality, such as having different scriptures written beautiful on their burgundy surfaces. One day, he vowed to explore each and every room in this place, but with the permission of Yami. Trespassing into rooms without allowance already caused him sever punishment, evidence of this fact being inscribed painfully onto the skin of his ribs. Even now, Yugi could feel the string of scars throbbing painfully, forcing the teen to halt his descent down the marble, spiraling staircase. He began to wonder with dread if the wound would forever ail his movement like the way it was, his eyes shedding a single tear at the possibility. If it did than…he just shook his head and continued, opting to discontinue the thought because of the familiar pressure threatening to constrict his heart.

_Hurt. Pain. Anguish. _

Pausing, Yugi tilted his head slightly in the direction where a path progressed into darkened path faintly lit with candles stuck to the golden-colored walls, hearing the beautiful sound of an instrument rebounding off the walls. It sounded muck like a violin, beautiful and entrancing, and coaxing the listener into a perpetual feeling of allurement. The piece itself was familiar to Yugi because Malik's sister, Ishizu, was an apprenticed violist and she practiced the pieces of famous violinists. But whomever was playing right now, perfect and at ease, sounded as good as master with the skill they were exhibiting. Before he knew it, Yugi, completely and irrevocable ensnared in the magical sound, found himself quickening his pace, disregarding the discomfort he was feeling from his injury. It was just so…beautiful, so sad yet powerful in its own right. He pushed forward, eager and panting, not allowing the slightly ajar bronze doors hinder him as he pushed them open, freezing on the spot.

Illuminated in the light of the golden chandeliers hanging above was Yami, dressed in a white shirt made of gorgeous cotton with frilly cuffs and an upturned, lace collar; black, silky pants held up by a leather black belt; knee-high dark brown boots; and an open black and gold duster that fell wonderfully down to his knees. Between the elegant fingers of his left hand lie a black violin, in the other was the violin's bow. The whole picture looked to be ripped from the 18th century and Yugi's wide amethyst eyes seeing as the room gave Yami a perfect background with its rare wall decorations; three fireplaces; and the huge table in the center that looked big enough to accommodate 64 people if needed. It made Yugi feel horribly out of place, making him wonder intensely why Yami picked out such casual clothing. Perhaps he had the teen's comfort in mind for the reason that Yugi certainly wouldn't feel right in such clothing. Self-conscious at the moment, he directed his awed gaze down towards the lavishly, semi-carpeted floor, unable to meet Yami's penetrating gaze at the moment. Even his vocal cords were robbed of their function and left Yugi's throat parched and uncomfortable.

Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to come gallivanting into a room and disrupting Yami's music session.

Breathing quickening, ears perking up at the sound of boots traveling in his direction, Yugi resisted the urge to look up, feeling daunted at how Yami outclassed him, intentional or otherwise. He was even considering running away from the man, but a lone finger tilting his chin up to meet crimson eyes and a foreign smile obliterated the idea in seconds. Once again, Yugi felt like he was drifting, this time without the aid of the possessive music, his breathing slowing, and his heart prone to bursting. He could almost forget everything at this moment like how he felt he should hate Yami for all that he's done. But _almost_ was not completely, so Yugi's eyes lost their awed expression and returned to the way they were earlier, conflicted.

"Good morning, Yugi…," Yami greeted in that husky baritone that never failed to elect shivers up Yugi's spine. "I trust that your slumber went well…?"

Yugi smiled bitterly. "Not quite."

Receiving no answer, Yugi watched intently as Yami gracefully headed towards the table, taking a seat at the head of the table where two dishes sat covered in a steel top, dutifully preserving the heat so the meal wouldn't get cold. It was at his side that Yami put the black instrument down, beckoning with a simple, yet intense gaze to have Yugi do the same. It was with cautious amethyst orbs that the tense teen did as he was bidden, occupying the seat next to the other.

"I figure that we should eat before we…talk," Yami said slowly as he lifted the lid off his meal, watching raptly as Yugi mirrored his same action, lacking the grace.

Underneath the lid was a meal that Yugi knew he wouldn't be able to eat half of, the reason being as it was a huge portion of food ranging from omelets covered in melted cheese; crepes filled with varity of fillings; croissants buttered to perfection; pancakes; mushrooms; and other delicacies imported from all around the world. He mused while taking a bite out of a potato on how he would never get used to how extragent everything was, including the intricately designed silverware. But he ate anyway, loving how everything tasted and trying things out, fully aware of how Yami's analytical gaze never left his person even when he was cutting eloquently at his food our chewing his food a certain number of times. It felt as if he was under the microscope of a fanatical scientist, the silence also adding to uncomfortable, tense air around them. Yugi literally had to hold back a sigh of relief when they both came to a mutal understanding of being done with their meals. But the silence afterwards was maddening.

So Yugi fidgeted with his napkin, feeling those unrelenting blood-red eyes burn into him mercilessly. Running was beginning to sound favorable.

"Do you hate me?"

Turning so fast that Yugi felt his neck throb in protest, he looked at Yami with a conflicted stare, the expression on the handsome face unreadable. Did he really hate this man? Did he hate the one who killed and mutilated his best friend? Did he bear hatred for the killer that inscribed his signature into his very skin while taking a sick pleasure from it? Of course he did. This man was horrid person, yet…why was it that he felt such doubt? Shouldn't he be more resolute?

"Yes, I hate you."

Something foreign flickered briefly in crimson orbs before a dark smile bespeaking volumes of his sheltered madness touched his lips, seemingly unconvinced by Yugi's answer. "Prove it."

Without warning, Yugi leapt backwards from his chair, the sudden movements making the boy stumble as he looked in horror at Yami, images of his disturbing nightmare coming to the forefront of his mind. He remembered, Yami saying those exact words before was engulfed by blood and darkness, and it stirred a fear that threatened to cripple him. The blood, the screams, he could still feel and hear it, driving him gradually into the depths of madness.

Was he reliving the nightmare?

A sound of amusement left Yami's throat as he looked at the panic-stricken teenager with strange mixture of fascination and bemusement, rising fluidly out of his seat while grabbing a silver knife from the table, approaching slowly, like Satan himself. "What an interesting reaction I have garnered from you and I have yet to relay my proposition. You certainly are full of endless surprises, little one." He kneeled before Yugi, close enough to encourage the boy's heart to increase in tempo, wearing a diminutive smile on his face, intentions hidden. "Are you interested in hearing it, my muse? After all, it is bargaining your freedom."

_Freedom_.

It was indeed a beautiful word, and thus called for Yugi's undivided attention, nodding curtly for Yami to continue. Although he didn't like where this was going or how the knife had a part in this, Yugi was willing to do anything to escape from the mad house and its owner.

"It's simple really," crimson eyes narrowed sharply on Yugi as the boy flinched when he firmly took hold of the boy's palm. "All you have to do is," Yami placed the knife in Yugi's trembling fingers gently, "hurt me."

'_What!?'_ Yugi mentally exclaimed, staring at the other and for once not questioning the other's insanity. However, Yami merely rose to his feet and backed up, crimson eyes burning heatedly with challenge and amusement.

"Perhaps I should be more specific. I want you to stab me, wherever you choose to. You may even puncture my heart if you so choose. I won't stop you," Yami's eyes seemed to gleam with a disturbing giddiness, as if he was delighted by the prospect of his muse killing him. "If you can accomplish this, I'll let you go free and won't interfere with your life. If you can't, well…that's another matter entirely." Yami laughed darkly, smirking almost suggestively at the quivering boy with the deadly weapon. "I want you to prove to me your hatred that you claim to have towards me and enjoy causing me pain. Don't be afraid."

Yugi couldn't help but glance helplessly at the weapon in his hand-no at the _key_ to his liberation from this manifestation of hell. All it would take was a quick stab and he was home-free. He could literally picture it, running home to his worried grandfather who would be asking to as where he have been. He could imagine himself returning to his friends and acting like he usually did, and not the terrified shell they had grown acquainted with. But much to his horror, Yugi could also imagine ramming the knife into Yami's chest, feeling the blood that would forever stain his once clean hands as he watched his tormentor fall to the ground, gasping and moaning at his pain. At the expanse of gaining freedom, he would have to hurt someone in return, even if it was a sadistic murderer that has taken the lives of many. This wasn't right…but freedom was so close, so deliciously close.

"Yes Yugi, give in to your desires. Hurt me, express your hatred violently, stain your hands with blood and taint your pure soul with sin," Yami tempted with a sultry purr, inching closer to the boy, not making an effort to conceal how much he relished the idea of dying by Yugi's innocent hands.

"Stay away...I need to think…," Yugi pleaded, feeling pressured by Yami's intimidating presence.

But the killer didn't heed the indecisive teenager's words, in fact getting close enough that postioned the tightly clenched knife to his chest, teasingly caressing the finely-sharpened blade, speaking in a deadly whisper, "No one will find out. You will not get in trouble with the authorities. I won't speak a word, my muse."

"I…," Yugi breathed, the trembling increasing, amethyst eyes darting from the knife pressing intimately at Yami's chest to the encouraging, smoldering gaze of scarlet eyes.

"I won't hate you if that's what's holding you back. I can never hate you."

'_Do it_,' Yugi's brain whispered harshly, reflecting his inner desire to be free.

"End my miserable existence," the words were bitter, a mere echo of a self-loathing so deep that its depth was unfathomable.

"Yami…I…," Yugi uttered softly, desperate tears beginning to cloud his vision.

"Show me your hatred. I want to _feel_ it," hissed Yami eagerly, grabbing the boy's wrist to guide him in a stabbing motion.

"Stop…"

"It's so easy. Let me help you…"

"I said stop!"

Silence that could drive one to madness drifted suffocating between the two, interrupted by faint sobs of distress and confusion that came from an overwhelmed teenager. The other did nothing but watch with occasionally blinking eyes, thoughts jaded by a heavy coat of indifference and expectance as the grip on the knife slackened till it the carpeted floor with a hollow, audible _thud_. As he expected, Yugi couldn't go through with the act, his soul and heart was just to pure to allow such a thing. No matter how much he claimed to wield such hatred for him, the boy would never be able to hurt him.

"Yugi…"

"I can't…I can't do this!"

Letting out another sob, Yugi pushed away from Yami and ran blindly back down the candle-lit hall, stumbling blindly on weak legs that threatened to give out from a mental weakness. It felt as if he was in that dream again, when his legs were broken when so badly needed to run. But this time, the blood and the screams seemed to pale in comparison to what he was about to do to Yami. Murder him, take his life without any acceptable reason at all. And it was for that reason alone that Yugi kept on running, to escape from everything. Even if he legs were to break…

…_Yugi would continue to run…on broken legs._

* * *

_**A/N**_:_ Hmm...it seems Yugi will never be happy. Maybe or maybe not seeing as I got to write certain things again. -Pouts- Tell me what you think and I'll try to responf if my internet isn't being a peachy jerk._


	6. Essence of Agony

**_A/N: _**_Yes I am alive and I didn't disappear into a void of darkness. I know this has been extremely late and believe me when I say I feel bad, I mean it. I **feel** bad. I really do. There's no excuse for my lateness at all, except life is peachy and not always kind. Just always remember that I will see this story to the end; I won't abandon it ever. However, I don't want to admit this but the chapter had been close to finish numerous times. I don't know what was wrong with me, but I personally could never be fully satisfied with it each time I wrote it. So on a quest for self-satisfaction; I rewrote it over and over again till I was okay with it. And this is the result; this long chapter. I hadn't originally intended for it to be so long but I kind of dreaded splitting it into two. I don't particularly like short chapters. Well anyway, you guys are probably tired of my rambling so I'll let you get on with the story. And before I forget because I have short-term memory sometimes, this chapter was beta'd by my good friend **Chronos Mephistopheles**. Thank you for everything!_

_P/S: I've been trying to get this up since yesterday! FFN was not letting me upload my document at all! Stupid website..._

___**Chapter Warning**: Mentions of blood and torture. **YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**_

* * *

_**Essence of Agony **_

_The real, invariable nature of true agony is…_

Huddled in the contours of a room bathed in impenetrable darkness was the small, quivering figure of Yugi, tears freely traveling down pale cheeks while he remained quiet and unresponsive. Exhaustion and emotions that he neither understood nor wanted threatened to collapse his determined resolve to remain conscious, sheer will and the fear of Yami finding him in this helpless state keeping him going. He didn't know where he was at the moment, and he was emptily satisfied that it provided him temporary sanctuary from the terrible problems hovering eagerly outside this room. Time itself was another unknown factor that escaped Yugi, but he liked to imagine wistfully that he been in here for days, avoiding Yami, the devil incarnated into flesh. His imaginings allowed him to falsify the hellish, twisted reality he was entombed into a more comforting one, like reuniting with his precious friends or...being dead. As shocking and completely uncharacteristic of him as it was, Yugi was beginning to prefer death over this frightening, detestable thing known as existence. Perhaps it was the dark atmosphere of the room influencing his mindset, but the prospect of virtual peacefulness and the relinquishment of life's hardships were absolutely euphoric to the distressed teenager. Fortunately enough, Yugi didn't favor the idea of suicide to achieve it.

It really was a shame.

Suicide was another option for freedom despite being disapproved of, yet he was too cowardly to take it. Twice was freedom in his grasp and he let it evaporate through his fingers, like a fool. If he really wanted to be free, he would have stabbed Yami in a non-lethal spot and ran, erasing everything from memory the moment his feet touched cement. Obviously, he didn't want it enough if he was cowering in a random room somewhere, being depressed. No…Yugi wanted his freedom but he knew that wasn't the correct way to attain it. Even if his body was disfigured to an extent, his morals were still pure and flawless, meaning he would get out of here on his own terms and not those of a former psychiatric patient.

Speaking of said killer, Yugi wondered idly if the other was searching for him in this labyrinth-like house of his. The idea brought the teenager neither comfort nor happiness, just a consuming, relentless despair. Yami wouldn't be too pleased with the game of hide-and-seek they were playing and might take his aggravation out on him. Perhaps he should just go back before consequences accumulated. But he wasn't prepared to confront him, not in this weak state of being. Weakness was a variable that people like his psychotic look-alike devoured, preyed upon, and exploited. If he wanted to face Yami, it would have to be with his face cleaned of any evidence that he had been crying and a neutral expression that didn't betray his emotions. But would it matter in the wake of piercing crimson eyes that could detect a flicker of deceit so easily? He wasn't even distinctly good at lying to the other because his sheer presence was intimidating, making it impossible for such a thing.

But he had to try. Or else he would continue to live out the rest of his existence in this manifestation of hell.

Wiping his face with the back of his sleeve to wipe away any proof of his visible show of emotion, Yugi climbed to his feet, albeit shakily from the lack of blood flow, and fumbled for a solid wall for support in the darkened confines of the room, taking quick note of the lack of objects obscuring his path. In fact, there weren't any at all, as if this was just an empty room. Quickly before his thoughts distracted him, Yugi dismissed the curious inquiry if this was in fact just an empty room, letting out a soft audible sound of delight when his fingers came upon something suspiciously like a switch. Without hesitation, he flicked the switch up and instantaneously, he had to shield his adapting eyes from the brilliant surge of light that spawned from the ceiling, appearing flabbergasted as it seemed to settle only on one portion of the room. Everything else still was slathered in a thick cloak of darkness except for that one part of the huge space in which Yugi believed to be the center. Odd as it may seem, there was only a mahogany desk crafted from priceless, polished wood; a black leather swiveling chair; and a mysterious book-shaped object that had a black quill lying upon its surface.

Curiosity got the best of him immediately, regardless of the alarm bells ringing deafeningly in his conscious, vaguely realizing that whatever the object was meant trouble if it had its own personal room dedicated to it. This only served to give the book an even further mysterious air to it, inching closer to it with mixed emotions of excitement, fear, and anxiousness, his heart producing a tempo to reflect these feelings. To Yugi's slight surprise, it was indeed a book; black, leather-clad with a gold opened buckle that wrapped protectively around its middle that probably served as a lock of sorts. Gorgeous in its design and enchanting to the eye with all its hidden secrets, Yugi found himself tracing the smooth, intricate, golden symbols embedded down the length of the book's spine with trembling fingers, glancing wildly around to check if he was truly alone. He didn't want to be caught touching the Forbidden Fruit, figuratively speaking of course. But still…the craftsmanship was awe-inducing and Yugi couldn't help but remove the delicate black quill and open to a random page in the book, shock appearing on his face as it dawned on him that it was a diary. But who's…

Radiant amethyst eyes opened in apprehension, breaths came in short intervals, and a pale neck glistened with a fine new sheen of sweat.

That cursive font, that manner of speech…it was Yami's dairy. Telling from the date of the page he opened to, it was entry dating back to one of his younger days, when he lived with his…parents. Immediately, a harsh knot formed in Yugi's throat that prevented him from properly swallowing; taking a quite step back from the book that suddenly seemed repulsive. This was probably one of Yami's most personal possessions judging from its impeccable, well-cared for condition. Did he even dare to look at the perfectly yellow-tinted pages that withheld such invaluable information about his tormentor, information that alone could probably torture him as well? Or perhaps, the true question was did he want to delve into the past of a killer and possibly see where this all began.

"_You're the only one who understands me…_"

Yugi winced as Yami's hypnotic, velvety voice spoke resoundingly in the depths of his mind, forcing the nervous teenager to reclaim the position he had next to the chair, uncertainty of what to do clouding his judgment. This could be his only chance of "comfortably" getting to know his host without listening to a sickening recap from the person himself. But it wasn't like Yami's written words didn't install fear into him, even if they were lacking the morbid hue of crimson blood that Yugi began to associate to be the killer's preferred ink. They were in fact more responsible for creating his fear for the deranged murderer in the first place. Surely the words of a younger version of Yami was different, be it in there intensity or their ability to stir fear in his heart. He would never know until he began reading, reassured by the fact that this was just Yami's personal thoughts, something that would be forever locked away unless he took this rare opportunity.

So with trembling fingers tracing cursive letters in a guiding movement while nervous amethyst roved the crisp pages raptly, Yugi read aloud in a soft, whispery voice:

_January __23rd__, 1995_

_I…I am confused as I sit here in the protective confines of my room, listening raptly to the whispery exchange going on between my parents downstairs, wondering if I had lapsed into an awful dream in which means of escape is nonexistent. The reason why I feel this way is only because my father, in what I hope is a temporary lapse into insanity, struck me today with a vehemence I have never seen from him before. How would I even prepare for such a thing when father is not the type for violence, but a man of wisdom and fairness? Yet that personality that I've been associated with my entire life was blown out of proportion because he struck me in what I believe to be horrible reasons. What I figured provoked such an impulsive reaction is that today I had decided to confess to my parents about my love for a boy in my class in hopes of receiving encouragement from them so I could confront my friend and tell him. My hopes where shattered the moment mom became so quiet, like the soundless whispers of the shifting golden sands of Egypt. Mother had always given me her opinion first but this time; she looked away from me in favor of father with such an odd look in her eyes._

_I didn't understand and I still don't at this very moment I'm afraid._

_It was like she was…disgusted…disgusted at me, her son. I couldn't believe it, not my mother. It just couldn't be. So I looked to father. Never have I felt such a horrible torrent of emotions in my life when I looked at his wizened features twist with disbelief and disgust. Was I really as appalling as they made me to be? Were my feelings poorly misplaced? I wish…I had someone to talk to right now. Venting out my emotions through writing can only do so much. And the fact that I'm quite famished isn't helping either. Are they going to call me for dinner? Of course they will…in fact, they were calling me right now._

_Maybe things will regain some normalcy after family dinner._

Amethyst orbs filled with sympathy and compassion for this child-no Yami while his heart throbbed with pain and discomfort, reluctantly turning the page to gaze upon the next entry. Foolishly, Yugi believed that Yami had been born mentally unbalanced, cursing himself for jumping to conclusions and being so judgmental. Still, the sympathizing teenager didn't feel that this wasn't enough to dictate such an impromptu change in Yami's personality, even if it was extremely dreadful. Did things proceed to get worse for him? Truthfully, Yugi was afraid to see what had exactly pushed Yami to the edge, his breaking point, but nonetheless, let his hesitant eyes absorb all what ancient pages had to offer.

_February 4__th__, 1995_

_I was considered to be a prodigy in all aspects ranging from knowledge pertaining to education and physical activity, so it was said by many that I was very advanced for my age. I was nether vain nor held any feelings of superiority like my predecessors before me, knowing that such a egotistical thing would only breed feelings of contempt and envy, leading to a whole assortment of enemies in future times. No...I was just-and perhaps forever more seeing as my life had the uncanny tendency to take awful routes-a lonely person that couldn't relate to anyone in this dreary world that I'm beginning to hate. It is troubling how my opinion shifted so quickly because of the last series of days and their terrible proceedings. Proceedings that consisted of decreased rations that gradually led to minor starvation on my part; regularly occurring beatings with a belt; and a mentally exhausting bout of how I am a sinful creation that needed to be exercised. Between the derogatory terminology mother hissed at me or the leather tearing agonizingly into my flesh repeatedly by father, I couldn't say which was worse. All I knew, all that mattered, was that the love for my parents had faded completely to make way for this consuming hatred I feel, a hatred that ravages my soul._

_It comforts me, this hatred I feel._

_It soothes the aches in my stomach that stir from the lack of food, but it cannot and will not stay the mental and physical anguish from today's beating. In place of the belt I had sadly grown accustomed to, was a leather whip that had bespoke tremendous volumes to me the moment my disbelieving eyes laid upon the harsh weapon. I had resorted to pleading for mercy, but I believe it only incurred the amusement in father's eyes, even as I screamed in agony at the weapon tearing asunder previous scars and carving new ones. Never had I seen so much of my own blood before, and it had roused some fascination within me. Its wet consistency that was balanced by its warmth, the vividness of its color…simply fascinating. It helped me take my mind off the vicious lashes assaulting me, this wonderful liquid that slid off my back. _

_And so, I began to wonder, how the blood of others would feel like on my skin, sliding through my fingers. I so eagerly wanted to know._

"Oh Yami…," Yugi muttered in sympathy, stomach churning at the awful details, at how this boy's mind began to twist permanently into the mentality he had come to know today. If only….he was back there to provide support for him, to ease these festering, terrible emotions that were consuming him. It was with a small sob that he realized that it was impractical to hope for such impossible things. No one could change the past that was written in stone or erase the wounds that was etched onto your very soul. Perhaps now, with an eerie understanding, Yugi could say there was enough evidence to warrant such a tragic transformation in Yami's personality. There was enough of the suffering, enough of the world that seemed to tilt too far off its axis. Did no one notice the mental and physical state Yami was in when he went to school? Or was that carefully concealed by a façade of quietness, a silence that wasn't unusual from the genius? Deciding that his inquires would receive no answer just by wondering about them, Yugi skipped ahead a couple of entries until a longer one caught his eye, aware that it wouldn't be long until the household master would seek him out.

_September 1__st__, 1995_

_I could sense my parent's abhorrence of me mainly from the jest of their uncomfortable gazes as they finally realized that something had changed within me these last few months. They could see that I wasn't breakable anymore, no longer that fragile glass that was just taken from the molding fire. Yes…I've changed indeed. My countenance has gotten that much darker and objects in the outside world seem to no longer faze me like they once have; no opinions, no beatings, no words of concern and suspicion from the unoriginal teachers. It was just me, blood, and this companionable voice that has recently taken residence in my conscience, a voice that comforted and prevented me from succumbing to insanity. Whoever said that hearing voices was a cause for concern was clearly mistaken or just needed to reassess there own analysis. It was why I could focus, why I have grown numb to everything around me, why I suddenly realized how blood could be so amazing._

_The voice persuaded me to shed my own blood a few months ago despite my initial hesitance, causing me to develop a liking to gliding a knife across my own skin in light strokes. The pain it brought was so much more refreshing to the one I had grown accustomed to. It was fleetingly pleasant and confused my nerves until they couldn't deviate between a pleasurable pain or a painful pleasure. For a while, I thought my parents would find out about my liking for cutting my self, but I was satisfied to say that I left nary a scar, at least invisible to the untrained eye. For awhile, I believed this was the distraction I needed, but I was so pleasantly wrong when the voice whispered of other things, better things. Hurting others for one and spilling their blood brought on a completely new level of pleasure, the voice had convinced me. Its wisdom never failed me, so I was keen to try something new._

_I did, and I'm glad to say it was in fact, a much better experience._

_Animals are what I sought out first, finding the foolish creatures when I was walking home from school. I can still remember that euphoric high when I had drew the carefully concealed knife from my school bag, the frightened barking of the dog as it growled at me, threatened of my presence, of a twelve year old boy. Elation and a fine mixture of adrenaline was what I felt when it lunged at me, its terrified movements so predictable to me that I was intrigued at how I so effortlessly dodged the desperate attack, my arm with the weapon reacting instinctively as I stabbed downwards, the blade becoming entrenched in its furry neck. And then came the blood, seeping out through the killing wound so languidly and dark, all caused by me. I could see now, why this was so much better. Combined with the primitive thrill of the fight for survival and the sight of gushing blood, it provided a complex array of feelings that was as addictive as nicotine. I survived off of this; the killing of animals on days that were spaced out; endured the usual torture from my parents; and drew my own blood till I saw fit with that voice guiding me. This pattern seemed unbreakable…until my parents decided to get creative with their abuse one day._

_Should I really be surprised at this point? No, most definitely not._

_I could only guess that they felt the message they were trying to break through to my difficult mind wasn't quite reaching, not that it would ever. Anyway, father had been positioned suspiciously in front of the fire, back obscuring me to what he was truly doing. Mother, on-the-other-hand, motioned for me to come closer, holding a brown, slightly damp cloth in her hand. She had asked me to take off my shirt and I wordlessly followed her demands, expecting for tender scar tissue to once again to be violated. But to my surprise, she just dabbed gently at the scarred skin in a way that reminded me of the old days. I had almost fallen for it hadn't the voice cautioned me to be vigilant, but even it hadn't predicted what came next._

_Father turned around slowly, wielding a freshly heated branding iron in the shape of the holy cross, actually managing to rupture my protective shell of numbness for a few minutes before my composure was regained. My mind quickly understood that what my mother had rubbed into by back was in fact cooking oil, an essence savvy to heating. They had wanted me to burn and I had, screaming to the heavens as my flesh burned and sizzled, the strength of my will preventing me from falling unconscious. I believed if our house wasn't secluded from the rest of Cairo, then surely my screams would have warranted investigation. I had no such luck; the experience had only festered the stewing hatred for this rotten existence to a boiling level._

_I can't take it anymore. I wanted them gone, dead forever. I needed to devise a way to kill them, a way that would equal all the suffering they've put me through. I wanted their blood. I…I need to think…in solitude…amidst the distraction of my own blood._

Heart constricting as if unyielding tentacles had wrapped around its pulsating surface, amethyst orbs glistening with the wetness of the tears sliding down his pale cheeks, Yugi released a broken sob as he reread the final words of the entry, his fingers involuntarily shaking in reaction to his jumbled emotions. He knew, merely from glancing at the next page flickered with dried flecks of blood, that Yami had killed his parents in the next entry. The pain, that voice which Yami believed to be hopeful was all the incentive he needed to end the life of his parents. It wasn't to say that they didn't deserve the eradication of their existence, but to cause a child to be driven mad with the desire to undertake such a sinful task was pure madness and a traumatic experience on one's mind. But that is without saying; Yami had apparently liked his success with killing his parents if he continued to do it to this present day. How was it that the doctors were unable to cure his fixation for blood and death? Had they not got to the root of the problem, which had made its foundations in Yami's child hood? No, they couldn't have, not if Yami wasn't actively trying for them to understand, not when they were just going to apply harsher medication because of the unstableness of his reasons. Could Yugi honestly say he understood Yami?

Yes, if only just a little.

He could understand that Yami went through a completely uncalled for change in his life that wasn't properly prompted. He could understand why being malnourished, physically and mentally abused, and subjected to a hellish loneliness caused one's mind to take a steep dive into unsalvageable depths. He could understand so much more clearly now, like the concentrated thickness of the fog obscuring Yami's mindset had dispersed to some degree. It was all because of this little black book, this tome of knowledge which he now regarded with a newfound multitude of emotions. It definitely was the time to seek out Yami, with this new understanding and compassion in his heart, the hatred he convinced himself to feel shimmering down to a fragment that fitted nothing.

Placing the book down tenderly and rearranging the desk to its former undisturbed state, Yugi turned around, only to meet harshly gleaming, ruby-red irises smoldering with enough intensity to put the sun's to shame.

Gravity seemed to intensify as Yugi felt enough pressure to choke out his heartbeat, his senses and quiet breathing coming apart at the seams. There were no words that he could form in order to retaliate against such an impassioned gaze, no logical explanation good enough to warrant his trespassing into personal territory. Anything he could say would be like stepping into a mine field in his current situation, nerve-wracking and able to set off at the lightest of all touches. To say he was scared was a belittlement to the petrifying terror he was feeling coursing through every nerve in his body, dreading another agonizing punishment or something not to far-off. Death would be too merciful-too releasing to be a proper penalty. His inability to bare the possibility of another one of Yami's torturous punishments caused Yugi's knees to give out, unable to support his weight any longer. Pleas incomprehensible to the ears left soft lips as the fearful teenager spoke, tremors swarming through his body like an electric current, wishing for a response of any kind. And he received one, in the form of a sighing whisper; velvety intones putting a short halt to Yugi's insistent cries:

"Out of all the rooms in this mansion my muse, I find you in this one, your curiosity getting the best of you once again. It truly is unquenchable; perhaps what I can see now to be more of your endearing qualities," Yami spoke with ease, effortlessly not bothering the stillness of the room while he came forward, pausing only to help the stunned Yugi to his feet with minimal effort. Crimson eyes narrowed in amusement as Yami realized that his little one expected harm to befall on his small stature. How undesirable. "Maybe my previous actions have indeed left you traumatized, which wasn't the desired effect. I am not as cruel as you perceive me to be…dear one. If I am, than I'm not entirely at fault."

Without thinking, Yugi found himself agreeing, all the details of Yami's unfortunate life coming to the forefront of his mind in a staggering rush. "Yes, you are…you have experienced more than I could've ever imagined, more than anyone should ever go through." A guilty expression encompassed the younger's face as Yami's arms came to embrace him with a silent fondness. "I have been judgmental of you…and your reasons for doing some of the things you've done," he winced sublimely, knowing consciously that he would never excuse or forgive the killer for all the lives he has taken, "and I'm sorry."

The embrace tightened till Yugi could feel the powerful thumping of Yami's heart in the solid chest before him.

"I'm not the only one who is in need of an apology, for I've something to be apologetic to as well." Bronze fingers tilted a firm chin up in demands for direct eye contact. "I am sorry for the suffering I have caused you, even if my intentions were of different origins," Yami said sincerely, adoring the hesitant forgiveness he found resting in amethyst orbs.

Did he dare chance it? This question shimmering on his tongue? Deciding to relay his inquiry, Yugi spoke in an anxious, quivering voice, having faith in the reform Yami seemed to be exhibiting. "Do you…are you sorry for killing her…for killing Anzu?" God please, say yes! Even if he couldn't bring himself to forgive the killer for the heinous murder of his best friend, it would warm his heart and opinion to know Yami felt remorse for his crime.

Lips tightened into a bloodcurdling grimace as crimson eyes smoothed over with dark emotions that made it impossible to permit any feelings of apology from entering through. "I hold no remorse or regret for my actions against that woman. I feel that it was justified."

"J-Justified?" Yugi hissed in disbelief, wrenching himself from Yami as if he just had been scalded by fire, uncaring if this rising disagreement was going to cancel out the rebuilding relationship between him. Disgust and fury blazed passionately in his soul while indignation flared heatedly through his body at Yami's display of callousness and aloofness. "How can that possibly be justified? She had nothing to do with this? She was innocent…and you killed her. Oh Yami…you killed her…," the distraught teenager murmured like a prayer, clutching fixedly at the dull ache intensifying in his heart.

The artist was deadly silent for a moment, analyzing every succession of emotion playing across his muse's face with eagle-like diligence before talking again, his voice placating, almost defensive. "Her interference was what caused her to lose her life. Had she kept oblivious like the rest of your…_friends_," his voice tightened and grew colder at the mention of Yugi's other companions, "she would be very much alive. Besides," his voice filled with a jealous possession that Yugi never heard before, "she doesn't deserve to be acquainted with what is _mine_."

_Mine…_

The word was spoken with so much relish and aggression that Yugi once again was rendered speechless, indecisive on how to handle this new prospect of being owned as Yami so assertively put it. His pride didn't even like the idea to be even considered, and quite frankly, Yugi didn't like it either. He wasn't a possession in anyway, and the anxious teenager would be so much more adamant about the fact if the unquestionable dominance glowing in crimson wasn't so suppressing, leaving no room for argument. Not to mention the horrible, almost forgotten detail that he did carry Yami's mark upon his very skin, a badge of ownership that could never be permanently concealed, existing in silence to play as a disturbing reminder. Maybe Yami did own him seeing as refusal wasn't a given option.

With a defeated look in dull amethyst orbs, Yugi followed the killer who left in quick, fluent steps that beheld the calm of his perfect composure with the enthusiasm of a dead man, masking the sudden weariness of relocating to a new place in this forsaken place. Clueless as to where they could be possibly going in this house of endless corridors, Yugi looked around at the various furnishings that were cloaked in a semi-blanket of shadow, disliking how quiet it was. He knew if something decided to pop out, he would be on the floor screaming hysterically, showing just how tightly wound up he really was. Can you blame him, knowing that there was nothing but a completely unpredictable killer a few inches ahead of you who was in an undetermined mood, silent and emitting an aura that seemed to be unapproachable?

But still…despite feeling apprehensive to wherever this route shall be taking them in this impressive structure of intersecting corridors that could do with a map of sorts, Yugi couldn't truly rid himself of the desire to know where they could possibly be going. It was great enough that it inspired him to voice his inquiry, the sheer size of this mansion rendering his voice quiet and fragile sounding. "Yami…if it isn't too much to ask, where exactly are we going?"

Had Yugi hadn't seen it with his ever-observant amethyst eyes; he could have sworn the corner of Yami's lips twitched upwards into a sly smile before resuming its previous neutral expression. It was mystifying to say at least.

"Seeing as I am responsible for what occurred at the university and causing its dismissal of its students for a week, I will teach you myself on how to properly play the piano. It is your instrument of choice, is it not?" Those eyes were on him again, radiating their familiar, overwhelming intensity that would make a lesser man look down in submission, disallowing him to look away. They themselves were the sole reason why Yugi had such difficulty getting past the knot in his throat.

"Yes it is. But aren't you too busy with other things to teach me personally. I mean not that it's not great in all," Yugi added hastily, trying to avoid offend such a high-standing man. In a lower voice he mumbled, "Don't think that I don't appreciate it…Yami." Did he? Could he honestly say that when knowing that fear agitated his heart whenever they were alone, when those restless eyes never left his form? He wasn't sure.

A humming sound of amusement sighed past darkly smiling lips, eyes becoming half-lidded, gaze intensifying even further as he began inching closer to his trapped muse, unconsciously making the other back away until he began uncomfortable intimate with the wall, precariously missing stumbling over a priceless ornament. "Understand closely Yugi when I say I have all the time in the world to give to you."

The addressed teen's eyes widened marginally. "But Yami I-," a finger halted what he had to say further while the artist's face inched ever so closely, slowly, as if spellbound.

"Ssh. You have such beautiful eyes Yugi," murmured the artist absentmindedly, his free hand coming to a rest at the other side of the trapped teen's face. "A mere shining representation of the wondrous soul you harbor deep within the confines of your perfect body. How I envy you…," elegant fingers trailed languidly down a quivering jaw until it rested suggestively on the milky softness of Yugi's skin, eyes alight with a simmering, sinful fire. "How I long for you…dear Yugi."

Before Yami could cross even deeper into the safety of his personal space, Yugi executed a skillful maneuver that placed him away from the deadly trap that become Yami's arms, trembling from the encounter and the jaded look in narrowed vermillion eyes. Never had he been in such a situation like that and it incurred a variety of feelings that he didn't have the heart to sort through. His discomfort, however, was what he could acquaint with the most and decided it should be what he mostly felt. "I thought you were going to teach me how to play the piano…Yami?"

"Indeed."

The sheer amount of displeasure and dissatisfaction being exuded from the artist was so immense that Yugi didn't need to gaze upon Yami's facial expression as his amethyst eyes roved elsewhere, purposefully avoiding the object of his discomfort as they resumed their walk, the atmosphere seething with an undercoat of tension. No matter how he tried to dismiss it, his peripheral vision caught how his rebuff to Yami's intentional or unintentional advances truly affected him in the rigidity of his stance. The urge to relay his stuttering apologies almost forced Yugi's tongue but upon entering a room that's ceiling stretched far above enough to mimic the height of the sky, Yugi felt the urge give way to wonder and amazement. The room itself seemed to match the Victorian theme of the mansion with its exquisitely modeled structure that was big enough to house the numerous instruments resting there, untouched and possessing a royal majesty all on its own. To the intricately designed, high-grade dark furnishings garnishing the room and filling it with detail to the gigantic window providing a mesmerizing view of Yami's expansive property. It was a picture ripped out of an art book, and once again came the usual inadequacy Yugi always felt when gracing the presence of something of extreme lavishness. He looked for Yami and found him closely inspecting the royal centerpiece of the room, the black grand piano that enticed a wave of awe in Yugi's soul.

Truly it was a majestic instrument, perhaps only playable to those deserving, like Yami for instance whose fingers looked to be able to master the plentiful ivory keys of the piano. Could he even dare to touch it with his inexperienced hands? Apparently, Yami thought so because he gestured to Yugi with a lone finger, his other hand gliding inches over the ethereal white keys, muttering inaudible words to his self. What would happen if he proved to be inadequate in Yami's ever-so observant eyes, or mess up? This was different than the classes were the professor's attention was divided onto all the students, not just one, like now. The nervousness refused to leave him as he inched closer, his innate paranoia of proving himself unworthy in those crimson orbs only being tempered by how Yami was focused on his piano.

'_I can't do this…not around him,_' Yugi mentally whispered, its echo being taken up by his fears, coming to a standstill next to the handsome man, distractedly looking at the solitary golden harp a few feet away. '_What if I freeze up? What if I can't remember any of the keys? What if I can't answer any of his questions?'_

_What if…_

_What if… _

It was a never-ending cascade of "what ifs" that stampeded in Yugi's mind as he began to tremble from the combined amount of his fears and anxiety. Oh gods. What if he-

"Yugi."

A petite body ceased its trembling as curious amethyst eyes immediately looked in the direction of imposing crimson eyes and the ever-so familiar dark smile ensnaring those hypnotic lips. "Yes Yami?"

"I believe in your ability to master such an instrument. Don't fear it, not when I'll be here to guide you every step of the way. So shall we begin?"

_'If we must..._'

Amethyst jewels narrowed with apprehension while fingers of a tanned complexion firmly, yet eloquently guided trembling pale ones over waiting ivory keys, a lesson bordering on the horizon.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

A flowery aroma was the first scent that assaulted the nostrils of the weary ridden teen as he made his way into the bathroom of his oh-so-benevolent host, eager to shed layers of clothing and ease the soreness out of his body from being wound up like a wind-up toy. It was one thing to have distance between one's self and a psychopathic killer and another to be sitting in such close contact that your very breaths mingled with his. It was a very nerve-wracking experience fraught with stress and a plethora of emotions that wound up endangering the attention he so precariously gave to his impulsive mentor. And if that weren't enough, Yami had to add fuel to the fire by taking it upon his self of providing himself a form of well concealed amusement. It would seem the killer derived a strange enthrallment in placing lingering touches upon his body, making the younger squirm inwardly at the uninvited attention that was so inconspicuously lavished upon his body. If Yugi didn't know any better, he would have believed that Yami was using this little lesson as a charade to mask his true intentions. No...it couldn't be...could it? Yami couldn't possibly withheld some type of attraction to him right? That sounded way to farfetched and disturbing to even humor.

And very odd.

Deciding that this troublesome probability would only stave off the relaxation a bath would bring, Yugi sighed and allowed his thoughts to meander till there was nothing but a determination to relax. And even if this bathroom's grandiose decor wasn't what he was used to, Yugi found it possible that he could totally ignore it as long as he took a step into the fathomless depths of the bath, its foamy yet crystalline surface beckoning to him with its heady, rosy fragrance. Only seconds passed before his shirt, pants, and undergarments were shed from his slim body, leaving him naked and exposed to the deliciously heated temperatures of the room, his eagerness sending him plunging into foamy depths with a delighted cry. It was like magic, the properties of the pool that is, as the scented waters immediately set to work on his skin that radiated tension, relieving him off his inhibitions so smoothly that he didn't notice. He was like a child that was being crooned to sleep by the lulling endearments bespoken by a loving mother as his troubles became nothing but an annoying buzz in the back of his skull.

How positively euphoric this was, swimming amongst the heated liquid that threatened to never release him off its freedom. Yugi found it pleasantly odd how a mere liquid could make him so happy. Perhaps it was the workings off a simple kindness being bestowed that made him this way, so giddy and blissful that it reflected on his face, baring a sincere smile that hasn't roosted on that spot in days. For a minute, the small teenager almost forgot how to smile-no how it _felt_ to smile. How it took less muscles to contract in order to bring about a more pleasant expression than a negative one. Yes, the water even soothed the dull throb of his scar that suddenly and woefully reminded him of his situation.

How could've he forgotten so easily? Was he that idled brain?

Tentatively, almost fearfully, Yugi let his fingers glide across the slickness of his skin tell he reached the repugnant, ill-formed, corrugated string of scars that sadly spelled that ill-begotten title with a horrible skill that shouldn't have been tested on skin, resisting the terrible but powerful urge to tear at his skin. _Disgusting. Repulsive. Disgraceful_. It reminded him of the very emotions that he had been feeling at that moment when jet-black ink and blood interweaved permanently to fill in those accursed letters, how his over-sensitized skin screamed for clemency. He remembered withdrawn crimson eyes supervising the unperturbed work of slender, tanned hands using a utensil to carve into his body, how his screams and struggles fell on deaf ears. The hopelessness, the pain, the wrongness of it all made his fingers tighten and his eyes slather with a thin film of watery tears. Why wasn't it that he couldn't forgo this hatred that devoured his compassion for the killer that he knew that had been wronged in the past? God's it just hurt so much! This confusion and confliction would be his undoing as the trembling teenager sought the flawless marble ledge for support and fortitude, the coolness of the material alleviating his bodily tremors.

He was just so weary of it all as he wondered with a sardonic amusement how a relaxing bath brought upon more stress and frustration. How ironic...

"Am I never going to be happy again?" Chocked the teen as his throat clenched at the threat of unshed tears.

"Do you wish for me to answer that for you? Or perhaps you wish to seek out the answer on your own?"

Standing against the gilded door lathered with gold and other precious intricacies, smiling devilish enough to put Satan's own macabre expression to shame, was Yami garbed in nothing but that comfortable red robe of his and a pair of black, cotton trousers; a glass of wine twixt his fore and index finger. Wracking shudders of unease and discomfort forced Yugi to drift good-naturedly away from the epitome of impulsive desire and mechanical cruelty, those haughty eyes that swarmed with the familiar madness coaxing his heart to beat much faster till he was on the throes of panic. He was naked and vulnerable underneath the heated layers of glistening water, praying to whatever god was up there to aid him from escaping this dangerous situation unscathed. Weren't it for the predatory analysis upon his body, Yugi would have believed that Yami's intentions for coming here was to provide some innocent company at most. But he should've known better to ever consider such pleasantries. When did the killer ever do anything that was innocent or harmless? Never. The mere thought itself invoked an involuntary shudder in his body, a reaction that didn't go unacknowledged in sharp crimson eyes.

"Perhaps I have arrived too late if the water's temperature has lowered. I apologize," he appeared sincere in a crude type of way, "but I had a few phone calls to make after your little lesson."

Yugi felt his infamous curiosity rear its ugly head and he had to struggle to actually reign in the desire to inquire what the phone calls were about. Instead, he merely nodded his head in acknowledgement, the awkwardness of the situation that seemed to have no apparent effect on Yami hindering his ability to make a proper verbal response. Yet Yami needed no words to keep their interaction going as he walked closer, disposing of his now empty wine glass upon a marble stand, and stopping to crouch the moment he reached the polished stairs that lead into the gleaming waters. It was with one, lone, slender finger that he beckoned the cautious teenager over, crimson orbs glowing with unrecognizable emotions, his robe allowing a teasing glance at his fine, tanned, and slender musculature. Regretting having to leave his spot away from Yami, Yugi tensely swam closer with fear of his tormentor's intentions, amethyst eyes catching jaded crimson in a heavy deadlock.

Yugi swallowed, suddenly afraid to breath as the same finger that beckoned him touched his chin and tilted his face to the side, panting shallowly as he felt piercing orbs of cold fire analyze his visage with an artist's intuition. The small teenager didn't understand the purpose of this extremely uncomfortable gesture, but he dare not relay his dislike of this odd survey, especially when a husky chuckle left deceptively smiling lips. God please let it not be anything bad…

Suddenly, Yami sighed, finishing his bizarre inspection and settling for caressing the slick baby-soft skin of Yugi's quivering neck, stopping when he descended upon the rapid pulse of his muse's heart.

"Ah, what a beautiful picture you create my dearest muse." A low hum of appreciation vibrated visually in Yami's throat as his eye lids lowered slightly, enjoying the fluttery thrum under his hand. "Yes, what a beautiful picture indeed."

"Yami," Yugi began to ask, hesitance shaking the firmness of his voice as he grasped his tormentor's wrist with trembling fingers, "may I inquire as to what those phone calls were about? I'm…I'm just curious is all." It was nothing more than a feeble attempt at a conversation, its true purpose to allow him to inconspicuously remove the warm, solitary hand from his body. Just the mere fact that those hands that has stolen life on numerous and unpredicted occasions made him more than a little nervous. Being purely honest, the small, nearly hyperventilating teen was just a few seconds short of fainting. Despite how much he protested with himself, he couldn't help but acknowledge how sensual and tempting those elegant fingers felt against his water slickened skin, confusion making him wonder why such feelings were elicited in the first place.

Thankfully enough, Yami fell for the small, little deceptive rouse and was immersed in his thoughts for a span of 30 seconds, providing enough time for Yugi to remove that dangerous hand from his throat, a part of him missing the heat. Disturbed at this, the small teenager ignored the fleeting desire and watched anxiously as the man fell silently out of the allure of his thoughts, wearing a complex expression that reflected both eagerness and a strange collectiveness, crimson eyes dimming into a cool fire that only flickered with remembrance of the intensity it possessed earlier. It was all rather unnerving to Yugi who didn't know how to receive the expression properly, his imminent nakedness-no matter how much it was veiled by a sheet of water-making him further uncomfortable. He feared that should he ask to get out that it might disrupt this strangely unaggressive and non-dangerous calmness Yami seemed to be exhibiting. Yet his tongue couldn't help but utter the killer's name anxiously, the curious lilt in his soft tone disproving the discomfort he was truly feeling.

"Yami?"

"Yugi." The killer responded in kind, more or less amused.

The teen shifted nervously; the water now tepid and unsavory as its warmth began to gradually disappear. "What were those phone calls about?"

Crimson orbs narrowed further in even more amusement. "Curious aren't you?" He chuckled deeply as he stood up, looking upon his muse who looked so tempting adrift the blue-white of the water. "It is a simple matter really. I was merely arranging dinner plans for this night at a restaurant. And no," he added as he gazed at widening amethyst eyes, "it will not be an exclusive affair. There is someone that I want you to meet who is a longtime friend of mine that shares my place of origin."

Perhaps it was the possibility that this enigmatic friend of Yami's could be a murderer as well was what stirred the fear and dismay in Yugi's heart, his expression surprisingly nonchalant in comparison to how he truly felt on the inside. The mere prospect of being in the company of two serial killers was enough to bring difficulty to his lungs in its task of taking in oxygen, knowing disparagingly that escaping would prove to be impossible. Maybe…if they were going to a public eatery, than there might still be a chance. Even Yami wasn't psychotic enough to attempt to subdue him without drawing attention to himself, the very idea almost enough to tempt a hopeful smile on his boyish features, an expression that had long lost its place in his most recent looks. It was a small hope and an equally smaller possibility that he knew could backfire with alarming intensity, reminding him of all the possible consequences he could bring upon his self for this. If he hadn't been so desperate, than Yugi would've never considered this option. But the true question was could he actually go through with it? Could he calm his heart and placate his mind when the time came? Could he honestly look into Yami's face and fabricate a lie of sorts, the face of cold, merciless punishment?

Without thinking about it, Yugi looked at the killer face hesitantly, almost afraid that those crimson orbs could read his thoughts as easily as a book, almost causing him to look away. Yes he could do it…if he concentrated enough, if he didn't allow those eyes to take him a part from the seams, slowly…painfully…

"Yugi?" That hypnotic voice seemed to mimic concern, seeming to notice the teen's slight withdrawal into himself. But the teen wouldn't be fooled by that façade of callous perfection, not anymore.

It was time for him to dawn on his armor, brandish his sword, and slay the beast if he truly wanted to be set free.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The sky was fairly gloomy that evening, completely lackluster and a melancholic gray that seemed to be the mediator in the general population's mood. This Yugi could glean from merely glancing out of the tinted windows of the limo, anxious, yet pacified by the silent cascade of participation falling upon the vehicle in a rhythmic pattern that was almost lulling in a somber fashion. Weren't it for his nerves that were strung up so tightly that he feared they would snap at the slightest sound, Yugi would've fallen for the eerie spell the music was weaving naturally, amethyst half-lidded in surprised awareness. His anxiety lie partly in the well-groomed yet ominously quiet man next to him and the uncertain outcome of this night, his dainty fingers unconsciously clenching at the expensive fabric of his dress pants. Anything could go wrong; any minor detail could play a momentous part. The fear was almost stifling enough to quell his frantic heartbeat, the blood pounding with its familiar fervency throughout his ears as he bit his lip to subdue any rebellious sounds. He could never handle pressure in any form and this time, it threatened to overwhelm him.

He was so scared, so nervous.

As if finally allowing Yugi's apparent disquietude to reach him, Yami's burning gaze languidly observed the poor boy and his attempts to eclipse it with a shaky display of calmness, convincing him to shift closer to him. It did nothing but cause the tense boy to jump slightly, those beautifully amethyst eyes wide with apprehension and caution that was actually a bit offensive to the unpredictable killer. Even now, during moments that lapsed into such silence, was uncomfortable for his muse. Confusion briefly flickered in his eyes before it steeled over with a dark amusement, taking in the situation with an unfathomable humor that failed to lighten Yugi even remotely.

"Is everything okay my muse? If I didn't know any better, I would say you're very uncomfortable with my presence. This would be interesting considering how you were the exact opposite an hour ago, completely without clothing if I may add." He murmured softly with a nearly pleasant lit to his voice, mutely contemplating on the advantages of trying to calm Yugi with physical contact.

"I-I'm not uncomfortable with you Y-Yami," he stuttered unconvincingly, subtly scooting closer to the window in hopes of receiving some form of protection, as if comforted by the idea that freedom was just a step away.

A small chuckle left slightly sneering lips, effervescent crimson half-lidded in a dangerous delight. "Then why so tense, hmm?"

_Lie… _

"I'm just anxious on meeting your friend is all," Yugi recovered with a grace that even surprised him, relieved as the other visibly backed off, becoming consumed in thoughts protected by a cloak of unpredictability. Perhaps he wasn't without hope after all. Or perhaps that was just a fluke-a miracle that was a rarity in itself in these dark times. Whatever it was, it granted Yugi the opportunity to install more confidence in his own self as he looked at Yami with familiar cautiousness, unconsciously worrying the fine denim of his jacket. Every time he gazed upon the killer, every time he heard the deep sensuousness of that baritone voice, a cacophony of emotions competed to become dominant, confusing the teenager. God he was so tired of being conflicted when it came to Yami. Why couldn't he just hate him? Why couldn't there just be animosity towards the devil incarnate? No, it wasn't possible, not as long as he continued to become entranced by the others hypnotic qualities, not as longs as he continued to face him without an immunity to his malicious charms. It was unhealthy, this questionable and fear-sustained relationship he had with the killer. And the longer he maintained it, the longer he remained shackled to the man who now sat eyeing him with an enigmatic intensity, the more he would suffer for it. No matter what, he had to escape from this man tonight or else he remain a slave to torment…the very embodiment of his pain-_the essence of his agony._

"My friend isn't of the sort that you should fear dear muse."

Yugi blinked out of his reverie, wearing a puzzled expression in reaction to Yami's remark for he momentarily forgot the topic which had caused Yami to recede from him. "What do you mean?"

"He is what you would call a man that lives by what society deems to be good morals," Yami hissed this with disapproval, gold bangs hanging hazardously over his abyssal crimson orbs, the lines of his face taunt with annoyance.

Heart racing at the very prospect of his assumption of this mysterious man to be wrong, Yugi tried hard to suppress the hope from seeping into his expression, keeping up a new visage of polite curiosity. "So he's not a…," fear of offending the man with his reckless but slightly justified assumption tightened his throat and subdued his tongue, locking his words.

By merely gazing into the pools of radiant amethyst, Yami was able to divulge what his beloved muse attempted to say, his expression contorting to one of sadistic pleasure, crossing his arms as he laughed, the shadows of the car enunciating his ominous presence. "What dear one? A killer? Is that what you assumed? Aren't you being just a little arbitrary?"

"I-I…," his response was devoured by the fervor of that mocking gaze, forcing him to look away and bite his lip, confused whether to feel guilt over his hardly justifiable presumption or fearful for making this crucial mistake. Yami had a way in delivering punishment that were memorable in every way to reprimand what he considered a mistake, the memory making his scar throb in warning, eager not to revisit that path. He had to remember to tread carefully when dealing with the unforgiving man.

"Never mind then," Yami dismissed with a casual flick of his wrist, eyes flickering with calm anticipation as the limousine came to a smooth stop, not even waiting for his chauffeur to open the door. Such pleasantries-if you wished to call it that-wasn't necessary to Yami who preferred to do things himself, like beckoning his dear muse out of the car who took in his surroundings with a surprising accuracy, as if he was memorizing every minute detail. Weren't it for his analytical nature and a deeply-ingrained instinct to take everything into consideration, Yami would've paid this slight difference in his muse's behavior little mind. No, there was something else at work here; something that avoided his keen eye, meaning it was close to being out of his control. Yami sneered savagely as he walked ahead, his muse's light, gentle foot-falls telling him that the other was trailing behind him, relishing in the possibility of another interesting move would be taking place in this game of theirs. No matter…

_He always won in the end…_

The teenager didn't permit surprise and awe to take him once again as Yami and he entered their destination, knowing that the opulent surroundings with their shameless grandeur would only inspire those feelings of inadequacy to return to him once more. But he would be a fool to not acknowledge the grand and well-thought out design of the place, establishing an atmosphere of a placating sense of comfort and security with its cleverly dusky light setting; soft harmonic music that brushed against the senses seeking to weave a lovely spell; and the staff that were helpful without being overly intrusive. Impressive…yet Yugi failed to see their guest anywhere as he let anxious, violaceous orbs rove his surroundings, keeping Yami in his peripheral who was seemingly distracted, never letting up the stifling weight of his personal ambience. Was there guest the distinguished-looking man sporting a cocky grin as he indulged himself in the company of a group of beautiful women? Or was it-

"This way Yugi."

Before he can even let out a gasp of surprise, Yugi felt deceptively strong fingers grab his arm in a frighteningly strong grip, reminding him of the horrifying strength the man possessed as he led them to a remote table decorated by a sole candle, one that had escaped his quite survey. Sitting in one of the three chairs was a man that possessed in air of cool dignity and refinement bred from being around high-standing people. His chocolate-brown hair was hidden in a white cowl that shadowed his intelligent grey eyes which flickered briefly with resignation and respect upon sighting Yami, and pity and dull curiosity when acknowledging his presence. If it weren't for Yugi's cultured mannerisms and the unforgettably company of his tormentor, he would've inquired about the man's outlandish clothing with childish enthusiasm. He instead settled for looking at the man almost shyly as he tried not to look away from the man's searching gaze that traveled from him to Yami frequently, only sitting, albeit apprehensively, when Yami sat with a casual grace befitting only to him, smirking with amusement. Chances of escape was beginning to slim down as he further looked at the unnamed man, knowing the loose foreign garments he was wearing belittled the finely-tuned muscles that lay underneath.

Yugi paled, knowing without fail that the man would carry out whatever Yami asked with cold efficacy that could almost rival the killers. But still, he had to hope, letting what Yami said earlier about the man and his good morals and the reassuring fact that they were in a public place comfort him, no matter how isolated they were.

_There was still a chance…_

"Mahado," Yami greeted silkily, eyes half-lidded with a cloaked intent as he threaded his fingers together in interest.

"Atemu," Yugi blinked in confusion at the use of the killer's last name, "I see you are doing well." Grey eyes traveled towards the slightly fidgeting teenager as he seemed to be the focal point of interest at the moment when crimson eyes lazily landed on him as well. "May I inquire as to who this boy may be?"

"Yugi Moto," the killer answered with a coat of relish and undeniable possessiveness, causing the man to shift questionable in his seat, his gaze upon Yugi sharpening alarmingly.

"Ah…is he the one-"

"Yes," Yami cut him sharply, looking at the man named Mahado with a barely concealed warning to which was regarded with an apologetic nod.

"Do you intend to keep him around…sir?" Yugi could swear he heard underlying tone of sympathy in Mahado's voice as that uncomfortable stare was unwavering, a hidden message in those storm-grey eyes.

Yami laughed, dark and foreboding as always as a tanned hand found its way underneath Yugi's chin, directing fearful eyes upon gleaming, maddened ones, an odd emotion drifting in their depths. "Of course. He is special to me in a way that you cannot possibly imagine. He is my…dear muse, my inspiration."

Mahado's eyes widened in shock in reaction to the passionate statement, making Yugi's blood run cold as an alien voice whispered urgently that this was a bad sign, stirring up his instincts to run. But where to? Where could he possibly go? Nowhere…not while those unforgiving eyes refused to relinquish him, oh so quietly threatening the forfeit of his life, or maybe worse…

_Unparalleled fear…Endless agony…_

"You haven't been inspired in a long time sir…" Mahado commented quietly, composure within his control once more.

"No…and it is why I've arranged this meeting Mahado. It is time I discussed with you the plans of the future." Crimson eyes glazed over with an inexplicable yearning upon the silent teenager who could only scream silently on the inside. "Of our future…," he added softly in a husky tone that made Yugi's heart race in trepidation and something else he was too petrified ever to admit.

To the mentally trembling boy's horror, Yugi could only observe in protest as the rest of their conversation was concluded in another language that he couldn't identify, only knowing it concerned him with Mahado's frequent glances in his direction and Yami's obvious pleasure and that strange fascinated gleam he gets when looking at him. Hadn't he known better, Yugi would've made some form of a protest at being talked about in such an urgent matter. Instead, for the sake of his sanity and to quell his anxiety, he focused his concentration on the on goings of his surroundings, amethyst orbs being drawn to the irresistible sight of a group of friends laughing amicable, filling him with a painful torrent of nostalgia and nausea. How long ago was it that he sat in the company of his dear friends, taking a simple pleasure in frivolous antics concocted by one of them in the midst of pure, unsaturated amusement? It was so hard to recall those distant yet beautiful memories with the arm of a deranged psychopath wrapped unyieldingly around him, as if doubtful of his loyalty to stay by his side _willingly_. This was why Yami was so smart-so deviously intelligent with that animal cunning of his that would make most wonder if he was truly human.

Human…

It was a word that Yugi had trouble associating with the cold-blooded murderer as he gazed forlornly at his captor, thankful for once that his attention wasn't focused insanely on him but the conversation that seemed to grow more intense. He looked human, at least in structure. Everything else didn't seem to be quite human. No one on this earthly plain had such finely-chiseled looks that rivaled Adonis himself. And those eyes had to be carved and perfected to the exact likeness of rubies; drowned in a macabre sheen of blood for the sheer redness of them; and held beneath the rays of the sun for their burning intensity. It was the only explanation as to why he couldn't possibly human. He wasn't a creature of remorse or sorrow, just an avaricious monster that was fueled by nothing but impulse, lust, and hatred. Yet, Yugi's mind kept whispering treacherously at how that wasn't always true, at how he grew up with spiteful parents that sought to purge him of a sin that was never there. They hurt and abused him, tortured him till he broke, feeding him on hatred and agony. Maybe…Yami-the one that was buried beneath the twisting scars and passionate hatred-was still there, aching for salvation. Maybe…

'_No…_'

He wasn't a monster.

'_No._'

He ached on the inside.

'_Not possible._'

He suffered.

'_It can't be true._'

Maybe the truth was-

"No!"

At once two pairs of inquiring eyes were upon him, one pair curious, the other concerned as the teenager realized he had lost control and vocalized his inner turmoil. Quickly before they could ask questions, even though it would only arise from the Yami later, Yugi stumbled out a half-true excuse, face flushed from embarrassment and discomfort. "I-I'm hungry."

"Is that all?" Yami inquired as he continued to search anxious orbs of amethyst, dissatisfied with the teen's answer for his uncharacteristic outburst.

Yugi resisted the urge to balk away from the consuming fire of Yami's relentless gaze, suddenly finding the floor to be a much more tolerable object. "Y-Yes."

Blood-red eyes left the suspiciously nervous teenager with a hint of displeasure as the handsome man rose; mumbling something uncatchable to their silent companion who nodded in consent, leaving once his say was over. Not knowing how to receive this small but meaningful freedom, Yugi felt a uncontrollable tide of desperate desires whisper fervently in his ear to escape-to run and never look back. This had to be the moment, his only chance of accomplishing his goal. He could almost feel the addictive pleasure that he was sure to feel the moment he stepped out into the world behind these doors, the sheer realization that his shackles had eroded away and the door to his cage had opened. So close…so wondrously close…yet, it wasn't going to be that easy as he threw the ever observant Mahado a furtive glance. The man wouldn't just let easy prey to escape his grip, especially not with the shadow of the killer looming dangerously behind him, a good incentive not to fail. The man was much bigger than he was, but he-being diminutive-was quite nimble on his feet. For all one knows, that may be enough to get away, relying on the ever-present fact that he could always resort to screaming for help should Mahado manage to catch him. With these uncertain assurances behind, Yugi's body tensed as he prepared to launch out of his chair, heart pounding, blood racing, and cold perspiration dribbling down his neck-

"You won't get far."

And it was as if the world came crashing down upon him as he heard those honest words, quickly whirling around to face the man who had gotten much more serious than he had seen him get. "I…I don't know what your talking-"

"I am no fool Yugi Moto. Your body tensed in preparation for action, and your face tightened with resolve. You was about to run away." He pointed out, leaning in closer towards the mystified and outwardly anguished teenager, smoothing his expression to a gentle one. "Not that I blame you of course…," he added with amusement, attempting to lighten the boy's mood.

"I can't…I can't do this anymore. This pain and suffering he's putting me through," Yugi choked out as a sob threatened to escape, gravity of his situation once more attempting to crush him underneath it. "He's cruel," his voice only grew more impassioned as those feelings long suppressed fought to be released, "and merciless! He tortures me physically and mentally on a whim and expects me to understand? That is such a twisted ideology!"

"I understand, although this is the first time I'm actually seeing this," the cloaked man murmured distractedly as he grew lost in thought, puzzling Yugi out of his rant.

"What do you mean?"

Mahado straightened as he rapidly looked for their missing companion, only continuing when he decided it was safe, speaking softly. "There have been others before you Yugi Moto."

Yugi reeled back his gasp of disbelief, unsure on how to handle this information. "Others? There were others he tortured?"

"Tortured?" The man laughed as if Yugi had said the funniest thing in his entire life, only stopping with an amused sigh when he caught the teen's slightly offended expression. "You must forgive me. Atemu's other err…victims…are always quite infatuated with him to the point where he could do anything inhumane against them and they would merely brush it off. It's rather sickening." All laughter and traces of amusement vanished off his face as he regarded Yugi's horrified countenance, knowing that this conversation was only going to spiral into even further unreachable depths. "They would love him, everything about him, worship the ground he walked and the air he breathed, and praised him…like a god. Too blinded by their sickening adoration of him, they couldn't see his discontent and the dangerous weariness he possessed for them. It was pretty soon that…," he trailed off, looking impressively pale despite his finely tanned features.

"What Mahado? What happened?" Yugi knew, god he knew, but he needed to hear it, needed to affirm his beliefs about the man.

"That their blood too soon marred the faces of his canvas's like all his other victims."

A dainty, pale hand clenched at his painfully beating heart, each agonizing thump emphasized by the pain caressing his nerves so slowly. "Mahado…am I to share their fate?"

"No."

Yugi looked up confused, convinced that he heard wrong. "What?"

Mahado' expression became solemn as he exhaled a sighing breath, suddenly appearing to be so much older than what his young appearance told. "You are different from the others…so much different that I fear for you. The way he looks at you…I've never seen it before. It is as if he's infatuated with you…"

"_I'm infatuated with you._"

"He yearns for you…almost obsessively…"

"_I yearn for you._"

A single, crystalline tear trailed from glistening amethyst orbs.

"He will never let you go. It is not in his nature. He plans to ruin your life and-"

"It is not like he hasn't already." Yugi interrupted him bitterly, wiping his eyes to prevent more tears from escaping. It wouldn't do to cry about it, to reveal his insipid weakness.

Mahado shook his head impatiently, willing the small, depressed boy to listen as he grabbed Yugi's shoulders with an urgency that stunned the other into paying rapt attention, breathing shallow breaths. "Listen to me! You haven't seen anything yet. What he plans for you…," he stopped himself, as if pained by the pleading look in those beautiful eyes, "I cannot say. Forgive me. But I can help you, escape that is."

Yugi wasn't sure if he had died just then or was trapped in a beautiful dream. "H-How?"

"There is a door that leads to the back of the restaurant next to the bathrooms. Go outside and there's usually cabs waiting to drive people home. Here," he pulled out a reasonable amount of cash from his garments and a white card, placing it in the dazed teenager hands, who promptly put it away, "this should be enough to secure you a plane ticket out of the country. Whichever place you choose, make sure to give the person on the card a call. He's a rather cold businessman, but he should help if you mention my name. Now I-"

"Mahado, whatever are you doing with my muse?"

Widened amethyst eyes flickered with obscene fear as they locked unbreakably with jaded crimson orbs, body rigid with a painful, languid fear that pulsed steadily through his body like that of the fluorescent blood flowing through his veins, silently praising Mahado's ability to regain his composure in such a short notice. Quickly, yet smoothly, the tanned man's firm grip lifted from his shoulders as he inclined his head an apologetic bow, honestly looking as if he was genuinely sorry about touching Yugi. "Pardon my actions sir," his tone was the epitome of calmness, "but Mr. Moto seemed to be light-headed and required my help to steady him."

Seemingly placated by the answer, Yami with fluid, masterful grace sat into his chair next to his unusually pale muse, casting an amused, prompting look at the nervous teenager, cleverly masking the concern he felt. "Is everything alright, dear one? Do you require anything?"

His tongue was like bricks in his mouth. "J-Just hungry."

"Dinner will be arriving shortly; I personally took care of that," his velvety voice assured, swimming with a mass amount of sadistic humor.

Determined not to be bothered by the implication at Yami's attempt to reassure him for he didn't need anything else resting on his mind, Yugi forced a painful smile of gratitude towards his oblivious tormentor, his heart rate escalating as his thoughts returned to his ever-prominent escape. He had wished Mahado told him when would be a good opportunity to escape, intentionally or unintentionally leaving it up to him to provide his own opening of escape. It seemed impossible to the small teenager as he felt the ever-intense gaze of Yami's blood-red eyes upon his person, which weren't too keen to relinquish their observation of him in case he grew "light-headed" once more. But it wasn't a matter of being possible or not, but to see if had the resolve to do it. The money and business card in his jacket's inner pocket seemed to grow heavier with each passing second, silently whispering-no urging him to flee like he ached to do. He just needed more time to think, more time to gather his thoughts and formulate them into a workable plan. He would have to ignore those scorching orbs of cool, merciless fire; that aura diluted with darkness and unforeseen intent; and that hypnotic voice that could snare the most indifferent person. They were all formidable opponents.

Yugi clenched his knee in apprehension as a risky plan formed within his mind as the food which Yami foreseen was laid out artistically before them in assortment of exquisitely prepared dishes. If he was to forever elude Yami's grasp, he would have to act sick, convincingly enough that it warranted a trip to the bathroom. It was a good, dependable plan up into the actual acting itself when considering that he had a habit of dismantling underneath the sheer power of that burning gaze. It was already difficult enough to tell small lies when looking into those fathomless pits of smoldering fire. Could he do this? Amethyst looked weakly at Mahado who had been engaging Yami in a nearly one-sided conversation, appearing at ease without the slightest trouble, never once sparing the uncertain teen a glance, as if avoiding him. If Mahado could do it, so could he, even if the man probably had years of experience of dealing with the incalculable Yami. He just had to concentrate, to keep reminding himself why he was doing this. He suddenly pictured his friends laughing faces in his mind, magically solidifying his resolve and suppressing his fear.

He could do this.

Sinking into a careful silence as he took a small portion of food that he knew he couldn't eat even if he wanted to, aware of that relentless gaze of calm madness, Yugi poked at his food timidly as he listened to his two other companions slip easily into that foreign tongue, resuming their conversation. Even if Yami was speaking, Yugi knew the other would still be paying close attention so he made a noticeable show of looking at the food as if it revolted him, his expression paling and contorting into one of disgust. It was with satisfaction and anxiousness that he listened to the gradual decline of Yami's part in their heated conversation, his visage analytical and bemused as he seemed at lost on how to gauge Yugi's worsening condition. The teen could barely contain his self at how things were playing out so well, dramatically dropping his eating utensils on the plate and weakly clenching at his stomach, emphasizing his sick act. Apparently Yami, eyes darkening with negative emotions, had enough as he dropped his discussion abruptly, fully peering at Yugi with the full ferocity of scarlet-hued eyes, his lips in a displeased frown.

"Are you ailed by something Yugi?" He murmured thickly.

Yugi forced back his instinct to reel back in submission as he looked at Yami with glassy eyes. "Y-Yes. I need to go the bathroom."

Something menacing flickered in those eyes as he sighed in acknowledgement, signaling for Yugi to leave. Struggling to control the excitement that threatened to rob him of movement, Yugi quickly rose and proceeded to leave only to feel his heart stop as lean fingers gripped his arm possessively, unwilling to let him leave. It was only the consequence of being harmed that he turned around to look at the murder, sobbing inwardly at the countenance of Satan himself, scarlet hue's burning vehemently, passionately. It took all that he had to not faint on the spot.

"Return to me in none less than 10 minutes Yugi," the teenager fought back a shudder at the ominous intent on the emphasis on his name, "or I may have to come looking for you." And with that, he let the poor, frightened teenager leave without a further word, turning back to his food with ease, once again unreadable. Fighting the vicious, desperate urge to run lest he appear suspicious, Yugi forced himself into a slow pace, keeping up the sick façade until he rounded a corner where he could see both male and female restrooms. As ornately welcoming and exquisite as they were, there was something much more beautiful about the ordinary, white door before him, something unexplainable. Without realizing it until he touched his face, Yugi felt tears being shed unbidden down his cheeks, unstoppable as a spring downfall. Was this feeling spreading warmly throughout his body freedom? Was it exhilaration? Did it even matter? No it didn't, not when everything that he suffered through was so close to being buried away permanently, a nightmare that was finally ending.

Heart in his throat, nerves alight with exuberant joy, face tear streaked, Yugi burst through the door to his freedom with clumsy happiness, stumbling as he felt the uplifting touch of rain pelting his body gently. Had he more time, he would've stayed rooted there and allowed himself to reveal in the water's pleasurable caress, his frantic eyes unresisting the draw of the brightly colored taxis, awaiting a passenger. He didn't need any more encouragement to get his legs to stumble shakily towards the vehicle that seemed to represent freedom, panting painfully as he opened the door, drawing the contemplative eyes of the driver.

"Where to kid?"

"J-Just drive…far away…please," he whispered as amethyst closed in weariness, smiling at the sound of rubber creating friction on asphalt, soothing and speaking volumes to the exhausted teenager.

_-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-_

_15 minutes…_

His muse was late, dangerously late. His patience had worn thin the moment he had sent Mahado away to drag the boy back to him, sickened and unable to move if that was the case. But the man had yet to return and it stoked that impulsive desire to shed blood into awareness, his fingers aching painfully to grasp the knife lying leisurely next to his plate, its metallic shine speaking of a delicious promise and the salvation to the building pain in his heart. His muse had been acting abnormal this whole afternoon, to the point where it even confused him. The teenager hadn't even hinted at a sickness earlier, and yet so suddenly, he was overtaken by one inexplicably. There was something wrong on a substantial level, something that he refused to acknowledge because it was simply unfathomable. That damnable voice and all its cynical remarks was laughing uncontrollably, mocking him as it already knew the truth as to why the boy hadn't returned to him. It wasn't possible, not feasible enough to comprehend in his current, violent state of mind. Yugi would never run away from him, not when he knew there was to be dire consequences for his foolish mistake. There was no reason for his little muse to run, even if they had their…_misunderstandings_. But that was all forgiven, wasn't it?

Right?

Resisting the impassioned compulsion to massacre everyone in the room and paint disturbing images with their blood, Yami released an agitated sigh as he swept a tense hand through his golden bangs, brows furrowing in blank confusion as Mahado returned, minus the one he truly wanted to see. Perhaps the teenager was hiding behind Mahado, but he knew this to be wishful thinking as he beheld his friend's solemn expression. No…this wasn't possible! How could it be? Rage and betrayal burned viciously throughout his body as his dark heart beat with agonized slowness, the world suddenly too blindingly bright as this foreign pain seized him over and over again. _Gone_…Yugi was _gone_. The knowledge tormented him ravishingly, as if enjoying this intolerable pain it was inflicting mercilessly. His unstable madness was getting harder to control and that voice never ceased in taking sadistic in enjoyment in this unparalleled suffering of his, easily surpassing the pain he felt when that whip from so long ago tore into his back.

What was this…this _pain_…?

He savagely rose to his feet with a maniacal sneer, allowing the savory fear on Mahado's face to help soothe his ceaseless agony, grabbing the man's collar threateningly. "Answer this correctly Mahado; I'm not in a forgiving mood. Where is my muse?" Crimson eyes flamed with barely restrained violence and madness, watching grey eyes cloud with nervousness.

"He is gone Yami. He has escaped."

"How?" Yami hissed impatiently, tightening his grip as his anguish and vexation rose to hazardous heights.

"Through a back door that leads to the back of the restaurant."

Wordlessly, Yami released the gasping man as hot anger boiled his blood, his control slipping the more he thought on how odd the teen contracted this spontaneous sickness, at his request to go to the bathroom. His little muse planned this and fooled him. The mere idea incited a blind rage in Yami as he pushed passed Mahado aggressively towards Yugi's scene of escape, slamming open that revolting door that led outside. The rain did nothing to pacify his anger as he looked around murderously, seeing not one trace of his muse, as if he vanished. No. This had to be wrong, everything about this was wrong. Yugi couldn't be gone. But the brutal pain within him said differently as it forced him to his knees, ripping forth a howl of anguish from his throat as he slammed his fist repeatedly, hollowly into the ground below, splitting his knuckles till his blood diluted to rain water tastefully. Physical pain couldn't banish the one ripping maliciously at his tattered soul, couldn't tarnish the fact Yugi was _gone_.

And that voice laughed perpetually, making this all the more unbearable. He wished to hurt something so badly…anything would do. Anything to alleviate his own agony.

"Sir…?" Mahado's quiet voice brushed against him cautiously, as if approaching a feral animal that had been confined for the majority of its life. "What do you want me to do?"

Yami's fingers twitched dangerously, his eyes emotionless as he regarded his blood and the rainwater with a frightening detachment. This pain would never stop; the very essence of it not within his reach. "I want you to do absolutely nothing."

Mahado shifted uncomfortably, his confusion apparent.

"I will find him myself," he whispered softly as he rose mechanically, slowly turning towards Mahado, his very image that of a wrathful demon as he smiled satanically. "And when I do, he will know naught but pain and anguish. He will learn that to run from me, is to run from life itself. After all," crimson orbs gleamed demonically as his husky baritone voice coated with sin and a sickening desire, "he is my dearest muse, the very essence of my agony."

…_is the one brought from another…_

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Well, this chapter has set the stage for the next one. Poor Yugi…what has he done? Lol. Anyway, in case you guys are wandering about when my next update will be, I can't say for sure. Just know that it won't be ridiculously spaced out like this one was. That I can at least promise. There's know school anymore, which means FREEDOM! I don't know how long I was aching to relax, but I can now. Anyway, feel free to tell me all what you got to say about the chapter. Constructive criticism is very much welcome as well. I will most likely be able to respond to all of your reviews because I have the time to now. I love freedom. Hope you guys enjoyed it!_


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